by Katie May
“A bite, usually, from my wolf.” The words are said almost dismissively as he continues to survey my body. “I’ll be able to sense you anywhere in this world. Your emotions. Your pain.”
I don’t know how I feel about that. My entire life has been made up of pain. The last thing I want is for someone else, especially someone I care about, to experience it firsthand.
Something Bronson said shakes me out of my stupor.
“Wait a minute. What do you mean the guards were looking for the twins?”
“Apparently, they had a visitor. They’ve been reaching out to some contacts who might have some information on Raphael Turner and Lionel Green.” He gives my shoulders a squeeze. “Don’t worry. They’re safe. They’ll be back and annoying us soon.”
“Did someone mention me?” Rion’s voice reverberates from behind Bronson. “Hey, Buttercup!” With a grace only Rion is capable of pulling off, he sidles up between me and Bronson. All of a sudden, Bronson’s vision is filled up with the back of Rion’s head. “Did you miss me? Don’t answer that. I’ll probably cry if you say no. Well, maybe not cry. I’m pretty sure someone ate my tear ducts when I was a child. But I’ll be sad for sure! I’ll have to call home to my parents and grandparents and tell them that my mate didn’t miss me. My grandpa will probably piss himself laughing—the bastard always hated me—and my grandma will start pulling out our family tree to compare dicks. Yup. The crazy bat believes that you’ll only get a mate if you have a big wanker. My Uncle Paul had seven mates because apparently he was sporting a python under there. But...now that I’m thinking about it...it’s kind of weird that my grandma knows all this, huh? Anyway, my mom and dad will probably put pliers under the nails on my toes—”
“And that’s enough,” Kai cuts in. He moves to stand behind me, resting his hands on the small of my waist. “I don’t want you to finish that sentence.”
“Don’t be an assburger just because you sauced the pickle first,” Rion huffs. Sauced the pickle? What does he mean by...ohhhhhh. My cheeks go up in flames. “She’s my mate too. Oh! Look at this knife! It’s shiny. Isn’t it shiny, Buttercup? Ah, shit. I forget that you can’t see. Well, unless you’re using your magical powers, but I’m not certain about that. It’s just a theory I have...”
He trails off as the silence becomes suffocating. I suddenly can’t breathe. It’s physically impossible. My lungs are incapable of taking in air as my thoughts stutter to an abrupt halt. All I can hear is the harried thumping of my heart.
“Oh, shit.” Rion runs a hand through his tangled hair. “I totally didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“Your magical powers?” Bronson asks in a dark, growly voice. He puts his hands around Rion’s waist, picks him up, and deposits him a foot away. “Is that how you were able to see in the halls after our date?” His voice is heady with hurt. He grounds his teeth together, works his jaw, and flexes his hands.
“I would like to know as well,” Damien drawls lazily from his spot in the corner. He tries to sound casual, but his eyes sharpen on me and he begins fiddling with one of his knives.
“You’re right,” I say, ignoring Kai’s muttered warning. “I should tell you all the truth. I care about each and every one of you.” I take a deep breath, pulse skittering. I notice, somewhat distantly, that Damien stepped forward the moment I confessed I cared about him. It’s the first time I have admitted my feelings out loud, and the words claw at my heart, demanding me to say even more. “But should we wait until the twins come back?”
Bronson once more pulls me into his arms. “My wolf demands we know now. In his mind, we can’t protect you until we know the entire story,” he says gruffly.
Guilt eats at me, gnawing at the chasm-sized hole in my stomach.
“Rion’s right. I do have strange powers that no one has ever seen before. I don’t know what supernatural I am...or if I even am one. At first, I only had accelerated healing. The people at the Compound loved testing out how fast I could heal myself and how close to death I could get.”
Bronson growls low in his throat, arms constricting around me in an attempt to shield me from the world. Unfortunately, he can’t protect me from the ghosts of my past who have come back to haunt me.
“I vote we kill them,” Damien says cooly.
“Seconded!” Rion pipes in.
“Give me their heads,” adds Bronson in a guttural voice.
Ignoring them, I continue. “Soon, I realized that I could do something else as well.” I begin to rub Bronson’s thick, muscular back, hoping to soothe his tension. His body relaxes in my embrace as he takes a deep breath of my scent. “I could go into people’s minds and see through their eyes. I thought that if I told them, if they knew what I could do, they wouldn’t hurt me as much...”
My brain is sluggish, the events from my time there coming to the forefront reluctantly as if being dragged through tar. The pain. The fear. The hurt.
“I’ve never heard of that before,” Damien says at last. “Can you only see through their eyes, or can you use their other senses?”
Immediately, my mind flickers to Cain in his cell, his hand wrapped around his cock. My face’s temperature ratchets up a thousand degrees at the memory, heat blossoming and unfurling in my stomach.
“I fell asleep once and was able to see through Cain’s eyes. I heard what he heard and saw what he saw,” I admit at last.
“And by the blush on your cheeks, I’m pretty sure our demon friend wasn’t just playing a game of checkers, am I right?” Rion jests.
“Maybe, with training, you can use more than just the person’s eyes,” Damien muses. “Maybe you’ll be able to feel what they feel, smell what they smell, hear what they hear. Hell, you might even be able to hear their thoughts.”
“Hear their thoughts?” I squeak. The mere prospect is daunting and, quite frankly, terrifying.
“And you never heard of a supernatural species who can do that?” Kai queries. Through Bronson’s eyes, I watch all of the men shake their heads.
“Well, gang, it looks like we have another mystery on our hands!” Rion says, lips curling upwards into a salacious smile.
Bronson places his lips against the shell of my ear. “Thank you. For trusting me with this.”
“Thank you for forgiving me,” I reply, ignoring the goosebumps on my skin from his intoxicating presence. “I should’ve told you sooner.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he grumbles. “You were scared. Fear makes you do irrational, crazy things.”
“Guys!” Braelyn’s voice penetrates the safety cocoon I have found myself in. “We have another problem.”
“What is it, Brae?” Rion snaps, whipping his head in her direction.
“Jenny just heard that the guards are back in the Labyrinth. Apparently, Nina has a visitor this time.”
“Over my fucking dead bo—” Before Bronson can finish his threat, he keels over, groaning in pain. His lashes flutter once as darkness consumes his vision. I wrench myself out of his head as more groans, grunts, and screams resonate in the room. I know, without having to look, that my guys are all unconscious as the white-haired mage steps into the room.
“Nina, you have a visitor,” he says in a silky voice. In the next moment, pain radiates behind my eyebrows as my body collapses to the ground.
I lose myself to the darkness.
Chapter 38
Nina
This time, I’m not shocked when I wake up cuffed to a metal table in the center of an interrogation room.
I push myself into the nearest eyes, unsurprised to see Alyssa’s face in the reflection of the mirror. Like last time, she’s a picture of elegance and grace. She walks over to the table with a casual gait, her shimmery gown cascading around her like fire. A slow smile blossoms over her luscious lips before they lower into a frown. Sitting across from me, her vision shifts so I can no longer see her reflection in the mirror.
Instead, I see the room for the first time. There’s a dark stain on the floor—
almost as if the cement had been burnt—and the air smells heavily of bleach. I practically gag on the pungent scent perfuming the air. The table itself looks brand new, not a mark in sight.
“It’s good to see you again, Nina,” Alyssa says softly. She sounds tired, forlorn, and her eyes drift down to her hands in her lap.
“I wish the circumstances were better,” I reply with a self-deprecating laugh. Instead, the circumstances consist of me imprisoned for the murder of her close friend.
“I’ve been talking to some of my colleagues,” she begins, getting directly to the point. “Did you know that Lionel Green’s assistant was arrested many years ago for murder and theft?”
“Rion?” I question before I can stop myself. Her eyes snap back to my face in surprise.
“You met him.”
I take a deep breath to control my suddenly erratic heartbeat. “I’ve been asking around,” I settle for at last. I don’t know Alyssa, and I don’t trust her; I have no idea how she would react if she discovered Rion was my friend.
She bobs her head once, resuming her inspection of her long, slender fingers. The nails have recently been clipped and polished, the ruby red matching her dress.
“I’m sure Rion told you that Lionel was enemies with Raphael,” she states after a moment.
“Did you discover something?” My heart still pounds in my chest, and I struggle to keep the jittery shivers down.
“As we suspected, Lionel has an alibi for the night Raphael was murdered. He was seen at one of the clubs he owns until early the next morning, in a town a few hours away from where Raphael was found.” She sighs, slumping forward.
“So Lionel wasn’t involved in Raphael’s death?” I deduce hesitantly. The one lead we had...shattered. Disappointment swirls in my gut like a thousand shards of glass.
“I didn’t say that.” She sits up, suddenly eager. “It just means that he found someone to do his dirty work for him. Have you had a chance to talk to the mage Damien?”
I nod warily. “Yes. I don’t think he heard back from his contacts yet.”
“I have it on good authority that Raphael was killed by the guild your...friend...worked for.” Her voice twists with disgust at the word friend.
“I’ll talk to him,” I assure her. Alyssa drops her gaze to her hands currently fisted on the silky fabric of her dress. At my words, she relaxes them incrementally—one finger at a time—until they’re flat against her thighs.
“You probably wonder why I care so much,” she says softly, distantly. Her gaze focuses on a spot above my shoulder, lost in a memory I can’t even begin to understand. Instead of answering, I remain silent, giving her the opportunity to share with me if she wishes. There’s pain inside of her. An undeniable pain that calls to me. I recognize it because I experience it myself. It’s the pain that hints she’s been shattered, broken, and is struggling to reconnect the pieces.
It’s a pain that speaks of loss and hurt.
“I loved him,” she says at last, voice wobbling. “For hundreds of years. He was my everything.”
Hundreds of...?
“Yes.” She chuckles at my flabbergasted expression, the jubilant noise momentarily breaking her out of her melancholy. “I’m three hundred and sixty-seven years old as of January.”
“Wow,” I breathe, unable to hide my shock in a quick enough manner. She doesn’t look older than thirty. Shaking my head, I manage to add, “You sound young.”
“I feel young.” She chuckles good-naturedly before sobering. “I met Raphael when he had first been turned into a vampire. He was charismatic, idealistic, and the light of my life. He saw something in me that many others didn’t. We’ve been together ever since.” Her voice is low and distant, stuck in a memory invisible to my own eyes. “We weren’t a traditional male and female couple. We both had our fair share of lovers on the side, but we always came back to each other.”
“I don’t know how you could deal with that,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. There is no way to scoop the words out of the air and put them back into my mouth. “I would get jealous.”
“It doesn’t work for everyone,” she agrees, not at all offended by my intrusive statement. “I know that I would prefer for him to be loyal only to me, but all relationships are different. Some are conventional and others aren’t. Some require delicate maneuvering and others allow you to forge ahead.”
I think of Kai and Bronson. Damien. The twins. Rion. I don’t know how I would feel about them with another female. Does it make me selfish? Wanting them all when they can’t have anyone except me? Do they even care for me like that? Do I care for them in that way? A romantic way? I already suspect that our relationship is...odd. One moment I’m on a date with Bronson and the next I’m in bed with Kai. And the very next I’m cuddling with Damien and being called Bambi by Abel.
One thing is painfully clear: I care for them all.
Alyssa sighs once more, glancing to the side and staring at her reflection. Anxiety clouds her beautiful face.
“I want—no, I need—to uncover the truth about what happened to Raphael. I don’t have proof yet, but I know Lionel is behind it.” Her voice is frigid, colder than even Damien’s, and causes ice to skate down my spine. “I want him to pay for killing my lover.”
“I understand,” I whisper, fidgeting in the cold plastic chair. If anything happened to my friends, I would go insane. I care for them all immensely, in a way I have only ever cared for Kai before. My stomach knots uncomfortably.
“I’ll come visit you again,” Alyssa says at last, rising gracefully to her feet. She brushes at a strand of hair grazing her eyes. “And Nina? Thank you. Between the two of us, we’ll uncover the truth.”
Her eyes focus on me before she turns on her heel and leaves the room. I stay in her head as she turns at a fork in the hall, waving at one of the guards present. It’s only then that I notice the bloody heap lying unconscious on the ground. Blond hair, matted with blood. Bruises marring his face. Eyelashes feathered shut.
My heart leaps to my throat as panic fills me.
Abel? Or Cain?
I try to search for any definitive characteristics, but Alyssa turns before I can get a good look. I’m wrenched out of her mind as she steps out of range.
Tears cascade down my cheek, wetting my lips.
When the guard arrives to take me back to the Labyrinth, I don’t bother to struggle. My mind is consumed with worry for the twins. If one is lying unconscious in the hallway, where is the second one? Did he already get led back home?
And when did I start thinking of the prison as home?
Stomach somersaulting, I allow the guard to stick a needle in my skin.
I’m not in my own mind.
I know that immediately. It takes me a moment to pinpoint whose mind I had slid into.
His eyes are focused on his hands, naturally tanned and freckled. When he finally lifts his gaze, I see that he’s in an interrogation room similar to the one I had just left.
“Hello!” he calls, banging his cuffed wrists against the table. “Cain?”
Abel. This must be Abel.
Then that means the unconscious man is my dark twin, Cain.
“Motherfucker,” Abel curses as he inspects the barren room. He begins to kick his feet, humming beneath his breath.
After a long, potent pause, the door to the room is thrown open.
A large man with a potbelly, receding hairline, and sweaty lower lip enters the room.
Abel freezes, staring at the man. His heart rate skyrockets the longer he gazes at him.
“Lionel,” he breathes, voice heady with fear.
Fear. It’s an emotion I’ve never heard from my sunshine twin before.
The man, who I’m assuming to be none other than Lionel Green, enters the room with an imperious set to his chin. Instantly, I hate him. I don’t even know why. It could be because he’s framing me for murder, but there’s something more to it, something entirely instinctual. I have
the irresistible urge to punch him in his pudgy, smirking face.
“Abel, my boy!” Lionel says enthusiastically. Abel tenses under the older man’s scrutiny, knuckles turning white from how tightly they’re clenched.
“Where’s my brother?” Abel whispers softly. “Where’s Cain?”
“I didn’t ask for Cain.” Lionel waves his hand dismissively. “I wanted to see you. I hear you’ve been asking about me.”
He steps around the table and presses a kiss to Abel’s hair. That gesture is...strange. Weird. What the heck is going on?
Abel, if it’s even possible, goes even more rigid, back ramrod straight.
“I’ve missed you,” Lionel continues, either oblivious or choosing to ignore Abel’s reaction. When the trickster demon doesn’t immediately answer, Lionel steps away and sits in the chair opposite him. “I take it you missed me as well. My sources say you’ve been asking questions about my whereabouts.”
“I...I...l...” He’s speechless. Abel, the flirty, teasing demon I have grown to care for, is unable to utter a coherent word.
Who is this man to him?
“You should be thanking me, you know,” Lionel continues, leaning back in his chair and placing his clasped hands on his protruding gut. “A little bit ago, your brother ran into some issues.”
That declaration finally is able to penetrate whatever funk Abel has found himself in. He leans across the table desperately.
“What happened? Is he okay? Is he hurt?” Abel rapid fires.
Lionel chuckles with a derisive wave of his hand. “He’s fine. Got into a fight with his visitor, apparently. Guards wanted to put him down, but I convinced them to give him another chance. You’ve always been my favorite, Abel, but I can’t forget about the good times I had with your brother.” A shark-like smile spreads across his face. “Don’t look so sad, my love. There’s no need to be jealous.”
My love? Is Lionel Abel’s lover?
The thought causes acid to churn in my stomach like lava.
If they’re lovers, then why does Abel appear so skittish? Why does his hands shake and knee bob?