Their first stop was a run-down building on the outskirts of the city. It was clean, but the chipped paint and sagging porch had seen better days. Following Jack up to the door, Retta stayed back as he rang the bell.
A short, stout woman with hair severely pulled back into a tight bun answered the door wearing a white smock and pants. A smile cracked her bare face, dropping her estimated age from forties to mid-thirties.
“Jack! How have you been? Haven’t seen you around here in a while.” The woman craned her head around to get a better look at Retta. “And who do you have with you?”
“Martha, this is Retta. A friend of mine and Newt’s.”
Retta choked on her spit trying not to laugh at the unfortunate name, earning a disapproving glare from the woman. A croaked ‘sorry’ escaped her lips as she regained her composure.
Ignoring her, Jack continued, “We were wondering if you’ve seen him around?”
Martha shook her head in the negative. “Haven’t seen him around in a couple weeks. Was wondering where he got off to. Figured work was keeping him busy. We’ve lost a couple I know he’d wanted to be here for.” Jack thanked the woman and they made their way back to the car after they'd said their goodbyes.
As soon as the engine was started and they were backing out, she pounced.
“What was that place? Why would he have been here?”
“That is a hospice and sort of halfway house for recovering drug addicts that are terminal. Priest ‘helps’ them out when it becomes too much. Most don’t want the drugs and it’s not given either way until the very last minute because of their situation. Unless they want to be in a hospital— which a lot don’t. It gives him a feed and the patients get absolved of their wrong doings so they can pass peacefully.”
A shiver ran down Retta’s spine at the last part. Cocking a brow at her escort, she started asking more questions. “What else is on this list of haunts?”
“A rehab, a smaller prison, and a couple hospitals. Why?” Jack seemed confused, he wasn’t following her train of thought.
“And he goes around doing the same thing? Offering forgiveness and getting a meal out of it?” Jack cut a quick glare at her tone before answering.
“I know you think we’re all shit people, but Priest isn’t that bad. He can’t help that he’s a Reaper. At least this way, he’s not out taking innocents and he’s helping others.”
Retta, not so sure that’s all there was to it, remained silent through the rest of the trip. At each place, they were informed he hadn’t been seen, lending credence to the belief he’d been abducted. The only problem was, it didn’t feel like the others.
Pondering it all the way back to the casino, Jack left her to her musings. Before he could get out after parking, Retta snagged his wrist to top him off and bring herself down to manageable levels. Being around all the people that were furious about dying and their situation only fed her own nagging helplessness at finding her brothers.
Jack tried to pull loose, but Retta had him held tight. When she finally released him, he was fit to be tied.
“Did it ever occur to you that that could be a bad idea? That maybe there was a reason I wasn’t taking more energy from you? It was to comply with your wishes! Do you know how hard it’s been to refrain? This is your own fault now.” Jack’s hands clenched into fists and started to wisp away as he lost control.
Realizing something she had done had triggered his instincts, Retta tried, and failed, to find any cognizance in his unfocused eyes. Deciding to leave him to it, she popped out of the car parked inside the underground garage and into her room above the casino, only to find her legs encased in some type of gel with the rest of Jack’s disintegrating body attached to it. Horrified, she tried to blast him to no effect. His morphing form absorbed the strike, not even slowing him down. Kicking out, she couldn’t shake him off and was in real fear she was about to be eaten.
As a last-ditch effort, she popped over to Kingston’s office, hoping he was in it, and collapsed to the floor as weakness overtook her. Jack was draining her, and she couldn’t stop it. Kingston was, in fact, in his office, and other than a widening of his eyes, he didn’t move to assist her. He did, however, send the terrified man holding a stack of folders scurrying out of the room.
“Yo, bossman! Little help here. Your buddy is eating me.” Retta’s voice was hoarse and weak. Still, the asshole didn’t move to help her. “Get him off me, damn it!”
Kingston only shook his head. “Can’t. I don’t know what you did to cause that reaction, but he’ll be done soon enough.” The jackass literally put his feet up on the shiny desk and laced his hands behind his head as he settled in to watch her last moments.
By now, Jack had coated her body almost entirely, and his human form had disappeared. About to ask what Kingston had meant and demand assistance again, Retta froze at the words that echoed in her head. Jack’s voice was in her head, and he was speaking the same words Ace had last night. Fucking hell, that’s what he meant.
Before she could completely succumb to the gel enveloping her, the door burst open with a frantic Ace zeroing in on her predicament as he raced to her. He dropped to his knees beside her on the floor, indecision running rampant across his face. Sitting back on his heels, he’d apparently made up his mind to let the situation run its course. Like the vampire who sat at his desk all suave and nonchalant while she was eaten. At her glare, Ace bowed his head in shame, but still did not attempt to free her from Jack.
As the last words of the bonding rite rang out in her mind, a blaze of heat took the remaining breath in her lungs, expelled it in a shout, and the gel slipped over her face.
Eyes covered, yet still open, she saw a bright green glow lining the form over her before it receded, uncovering her mouth and nose first, allowing her to suck in greedy gulps of air. More quickly than it had covered her, the coating coalesced back into the chameleon. It didn't leave any actual residue, but a sensation that something had been left behind remained. So did the feeling that it was filling something she was now missing.
Jack uttered one word before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he collapsed on the floor. Right about the same spot Ace had been the night before, she couldn't help but notice.
“Mine.”
With a scowl, Retta panted, trying to regain her composure and switching her glare back and forth between the two men. “Really? Zero help? I’ll remember that.” Letting out a huff that amused them both, despite her threat, Retta moved to the couch she’d occupied the last time she was there, while leaving the men to handle Jack.
Ace didn’t even help bossman move him to the couch next to her, which also annoyed her, but she supposed they’d need to be touching to speed things up. And that brought to mind sleeping arrangements. Ace wasn’t going to want to be far away either. A groan escaped her as she scrubbed her hands over her face and put those thoughts away to concentrate on the bigger issue. Finding Priest.
“Where else can we look? Can he be summoned? Anything? We need to figure this out and soon, before anyone else is kidnapped. When whoever is behind this runs out of brothers, I’m going to assume I’ll be next.”
Kingston’s expression didn't shift, proving her theory he’d already deduced as much. Other than a frown marring his pretty face, Ace didn't react either. Before either could answer, the door opened admitting Quinton, who didn't waste any time putting his two cents in.
“Why don’t you let them disappear? None of you belonged here to begin with. Would it really be a hardship to have you all gone?” A glimmer moved across his eyes as if they’d tried to shift and failed.
Opening her senses further, Retta compared what she remembered from their previous meeting to this one. Cocking her head to the side in concentration, she addressed the room. “Camilla, right? What makes you think you’re welcome at this meeting?”
Now surprise ran across the visages of the two who were still conscious in the office, as well as the twin who hid
in her brother’s skin. Could they really not tell it wasn’t Quinton? And how many times had this happened in the past?
Before any of them could react or try to stop her, Retta flooded Quinton with her energy. She forced it past the block of the partial shift, latching onto whatever the connection was with the guys. Overpowering Camilla let Quinton surface, and this time he was lucid enough to understand what had happened.
He turned wounded eyes on Kingston, stammering out apologies. Teeth chattering with cold, it was Ace that realized he must be in shock and moved to a closet hidden in a panel in the wall to pull a blanket out. Surprising contents in there, but maybe it was an efficiency thing. They could hole up in here as a panic room of sorts.
Kingston finally broke his silence. “Quint, our Queen, she has to go. If she doesn’t, I fear you won’t come back. Her influence has gone unnoticed. Had it not been her animosity for our intended bond, she would have gone unchecked. I cannot see further down a path that includes her.”
Quinton let out a strangled, “No!”
“How?” Ace’s single word summed it up. How do you remove a piece of someone without destroying what remained?
Jack stirred to life with a mumbled answer, indicating he’d been awake and listening, even if lethargic still. “Bond. Retta has to bond him.”
Nose wrinkled in repugnance, Retta glared down at Jack before switching her attention to Quinton. Even with bossman’s warning, she wasn’t keen on the idea. “Do I have to? I mean, I won’t miss the crazy bitch, but I’m not really into this bond thing to begin with. Queenie here isn’t exactly my type either.” That part may be a stretch of the truth, but they didn’t need to know that. “He’s a bit of a whiner, too.”
Widened eyes and a red flush running up Quinton’s sculpted cheekbones were his only reaction until he couldn’t mask the upset. His shoulders curled in on themselves while his head slumped in shame.
Retta’s lips pursed in aggravation at herself. Feeling he deserved the jab but also as if she’d just kicked a stray dog begging for scraps, she extended a hand to him. “My temper is a nasty bitch. Not saying I’m happy with the arrangement, but I don’t want cray-cray coming back to make this harder. Let’s get it over with.”
Quinton’s shoulders straightened as his head came up. Pride written across his face, it was apparent he wanted to refuse. She thought he was going to do just that when Ace grabbed him and pulled him over to the couch.
Jack managed to right himself to curl up in the opposite corner, leaving room next to Retta where Ace unceremoniously shoved Quinton down. It’s as far as Retta gets as the bonding spontaneously happened with the other two and now, she’s unsure of how to instigate it on purpose. Sensing her confusion, Quinton took the lead.
Grasping her hand, he pulled her into him without warning, dipping his head to fuse their lips together. They were soft, but not as feminine as she’d imagined they’d be. The surprise let her guard down enough, and Quinton took advantage, moving his mouth against her, parting his lips and urging her to do the same. A dart of his tongue against the seam of her own with a tendril of seduction brushing her walls of protection make her relax into the kiss. It was unlike the rush and trauma of Ace and Jack. This was gentle and sensual. A draw on her energy in wisps instead of gulps. As Quinton’s energy flowed into her, hers made a circuit funneling back into him.
6
Time suspended while they made out like teenagers on the couch, their forgotten audience watching on. Retta’s eyes opened at a catch in her chest. Not remembering closing them, she nearly toppled over the arm of the couch trying to get away from Quinton. Their faces were literally, fused together at their mouths. That being alarming enough, had nothing on the tears of blood flowing from Quinton’s eyes and ears. Something was obviously very wrong. Trying to signal for help, her voice only echoed in her throat and mouth. Registering that was the only noise she could hear, Retta managed to turn her eyes far enough to see three extremely worried and irate men trying to push through a shimmering barrier.
Slapping and pushing at Quinton’s shoulders and chest only brought pain to her mouth where they were connected. Dark pupils blown in the horror of the situation, Quinton was helpless when his body began to convulse, his throat working as if gagging.
Retta fumbled for the knife she kept in her boot, determined to separate them one way or another. Distracted before she got her hand halfway down her leg, she screamed, uncaring if it was muffled or not, pulling away in earnest.
Something was moving from his mouth to hers. Previous concern of vomit was discarded at the solid mass moving on its own.
No longer caring if either of them kept lips, Retta managed to partially bite down in the object to stop its progress. Hard, soft, and wiggling sensations registered through her clamped teeth. Continuing to reach for her boot, idly she noticed Quinton turning purple from lack of air and whatever was pushing up his throat.
Freeing her blade, Retta wasted no time aiming for the center of their flesh where they were connected. Expecting the imminent impalement and rendering of skin, Retta braced herself for the pain. Quinton must have sensed her intent even through his predicament, frantic noises escaping his throat. The panic, it seemed, managed to do what the entity moving from him to her hadn’t managed— the will to push through and use his ability to part their stuck mouths.
Instead of hurting either of them, the sharp, black blade sliced into the exposed thing, causing it to recoil and drop to the floor.
A snake. A fucking nasty pink, orange spotted, snake.
Retta could, and had, handled many things over her collection of years. A snake in the mouth trying to infiltrate her body for nefarious purposes wasn’t one of those. Retching at the thought and the remembered feeling of it in her mouth, she kept it in her sights.
Smoke was escaping from the cut in its side instead of blood, the edges of the split skin curling in on itself as if it were burning paper. The scent coming off it was reminiscent of burnt hair, daring her gag reflex not to react.
Sneaking a glance at Quinton, Retta couldn’t decide which thing was more important to keep an eye on. His form was twisting and morphing from his own visage to that of Camilla. An internal battle that she couldn’t help him with.
Camilla briefly won the struggle, calling out to the snake coiled and disintegrating on the floor, beseeching it for assistance. “You promised! We had a deal!”
Recognizing the likely cause of Camilla’s sudden ability to manifest into being, Retta tossed her blade where it unerringly found its mark, severing the head of the snake and speeding the process of the disintegration, leaving nothing but a black smudge on the floor. At its disappearance, Camilla could no longer hold the upper hand, allowing Quinton to emerge, sweaty and pale, yet seemingly the one now in control.
With Camilla now gone as well as the snake, the barrier fell and sound returned to the room. Bringing to light yet another issue. Two out of control bonded and a vampire in apparent bloodlust. Without even a chance to catch her breath or lunge out of reach, Kingston was suddenly there, fangs sinking deep into her neck before retracting, allowing him to take deep draws of her blood.
The power and bond hit like a slap in the face.Without further warning, Kingston’s eyes rolled up in his head as he crumpled, felled timber style, to the floor.
Unable to contain her fury, Retta’s pissed off “are you fucking serious?” blasted around the room, carrying her intent to harm that did absolutely no good as it hit each of the men in the room, only to be absorbed by them. Pissed but no longer about to blow, she demanded to know what Camilla had been talking about. The guys, those that were still coherent, shrugged with no explanation forthcoming.
“Wait, why didn’t you pass out?” Suspicious, Retta eyed Quinton.
Hands up, he was quick to explain. “I don’t think the bond sealed all the way. But I do feel a connection.”
Mollified but still curious, she stalked over to him. And ran into a naked and dirty b
ody that fell out of thin air directly in her path. While the face and body were not the same, the eyes were very familiar.
“You! You son of a bitch! I knew you couldn’t have stayed away all this time out of the goodness of your heart!” Rage bubbling, Retta didn’t even bother to use her abilities. She drew a leg back for a good old-fashioned boot to the ribs. Except Ace tackled her before she could connect with the good for nothing piece of shit.
“Mistress, no! That’s Priest.” Apparently, Jack was back in commission, too.
A frustrated growl escaped through Retta’s clenched teeth. Carefully enunciating each word, she demanded an explanation.
“What. Do. You mean, that’s Priest?” Throwing a glare around the room, a tickle began in her head. A tickle that became persistent enough to coalesce into a thought. “You planned this. To trap me here. You all did this, didn’t you?”
Priest— she sneered even thinking the name, hung his head. Whether in shame or from his obvious ordeal was still to be determined. If she had any say, it’d be leaning to shame quick enough. The others looked genuinely bewildered. At least it wasn’t a complete coup. She decided to enlighten the others. All of them— since Kingston began stirring on the floor. She’d have to take up the fangs and her neck issue later. He wasn’t the current focus of the biggest portion of her ire.
“This.” She toed a bare leg with her boot. “It’s not Priest. Well, he may be now, and he’ll be explaining that in a hurry, but more widely he is known as Patience. We called him Merc, since Patience, even back then, was too feminine of a name for him. Sounded close enough to Mercy. At least you got stuck with another shitty name, Newt. That’s karma, baby.
“I should have known from the places we were going. Offering forgiveness, having mercy on their poor souls. Ushering them into the afterlife. Go figure you managed to insert yourself into my life after all this time. Did Mommy and Daddy put you up to it? I suppose the question should be is which Mommy and Daddy? I wouldn’t do it then, and I won’t do it now. All your careful plans to reconstitute the bloodlines enough for me to bond with them and inadvertently, you. It may have worked out in that way, but it doesn’t mean I have to bond with you directly. Nor, as you remember, can you force it.” Retta finished off with a smirk, even if she did get a twinge in the chest region at Priest’s condition. She wasn't so far removed from humanity that she couldn't feel compassion.
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