by L Ann
“Cute,” Damien remarked from behind them. “Never thought you’d be the handholding type, DJ.”
“That’s the problem with you. You think you know me and Shaun, but you actually have no clue who we are and what we’re capable of.”
“I could argue the same. You think you know what’s happening here, but the truth is you don’t. You have no idea why I’ve done the things I’ve done, what I’ve had to –”
“Damien,” Maggie’s voice stopped him. “You need to focus on what you’re doing now, not what you’ve done in the past.”
Deacon heard Damien sigh behind him. “Yes, yes you’re right.”
They reached the double doors and Deacon turned toward the wall without argument, raising his arms and linking his fingers behind his head. He heard the soft beep as Damien hit the keypad and then a hiss as the doors released and swung open.
“All right, move ahead of me again. Straight through the doors and follow the corridor to the end. We’ll do this again once we reach the doors there.”
He repeated the same actions for three more sets of doors and then the faint scent of fresh air and trees reached Deacon’s nostrils.
“There’s a car waiting just beyond the next set of doors. Maggie, I want you and Deacon in the front. I’ll sit in the back with the girl … to ensure Deacon’s compliance. The keys are in the ignition. Deacon can drive.”
Deacon reached out and touched Gemma’s arm. She glanced over at him, her face pale and drawn, and he forced himself to smile and wink at her. He knew it couldn’t be easy for her having Damien’s hand gripping her arm, his gun against her back. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, keep her safe. His wolf wanted to rip out Damien’s throat and bathe in his blood. Deacon was confident he could fulfil both of those desires, given time and patience.
“I’ll need to inform Mac that we’re coming,” he threw over his shoulder.
“Once we’re close. I don’t want any surprises.”
They exited the building without incident and, as Damien had told them, there was a car waiting just beyond the door. Deacon took a slow look around.
“Is this the Cooper home?” he asked.
“Been sniffing around, have you?” was Damien’s response. “Get in the car.”
“I want Gemma in the front with me.”
“No. The girl stays with me. Don’t test me, Deacon. I will shoot her.”
“It’s okay,” Gemma said. “Do what he wants” She reached up to touch his face. “Let’s get this over with.”
Deacon frowned. He didn’t like the tone in her voice, she sounded too much like she had when he’d first brought her back home. Was her wolf in the ascendant again?
He pulled open the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat, fiddling with the seat placement while the others piled in.
“Drive straight to the Sanctuary, Deacon, no detours.”
Deacon glared at his cousin through the rear-view mirror, watching as he pulled Gemma close to him, the gun resting against her side. Gemma sat stiffly beside him, fingers clutching the hem of the smock she wore. With a muttered curse, he threw the car into gear and focused on driving away from the house.
A tense silence reigned during the first half of the journey. Deacon kept one eye on the road behind them, half-expecting someone to give chase and drag them back or for Damien to do something crazy. When neither happened, he slowly relaxed.
Maybe they’d make it back to Sanctuary and deal with Damien, after all.
He still wasn’t sure what Damien’s plan was – why did he want to go to Sanctuary? Why was he so obsessed with getting near Shaun? What were they missing? The questions nagged at him as he drove, going round and round in his head.
Heading to Sanctuary with nothing and no-one to protect him made no sense. In fact, it was almost suicidal.
Was that it? Did he want to be taken out by the Pack?
He mentally shook his head. No, that made even less sense. Why go to all the effort of setting up an exchange – granted, one that had failed – if his big plan was to kill himself?
Maybe he intended on challenging Mac for Alpha status of Midnight?
Deacon snorted, caught himself and glanced around to see if anyone had heard. He would have to be certifiable to even think he could take out Mac.
“Do you have a safe room?” Damien said abruptly.
“Yes, of a sort. Why?” Deacon replied, thinking about the room they’d put the girl in.
“I need it. Pull over here and call Cormac. I do not want Shaun there when we arrive. It would be … unwise.”
“I thought all this was because you wanted to see Shaun?” He brought the car to a stop and twisted in his seat to look at his cousin.
“I do. But not tonight.” He tossed a phone at Deacon. “Call Cormac. Have him and two others, not Shaun, waiting. I’ll go to the safe room willingly. Maggie and the girl will come with me. Once we’re in there, you can take your girl back.”
“No. Gemma will go into the house. She’s spent enough time with you.”
Damien released a faint sigh. “You still think you can bargain with me.” The click of the safety being released on his gun was loud in the car. “My terms aren’t open for debate. Call Cormac.”
Deacon could see Cormac, Caleb and Jaden waiting near the bottom step of the deck as he eased the car to a stop.
“Now what?” he asked Damien, cutting the engine and taking out the keys.
“Maggie, you get out first. Tell them to stay where they are while I get out with the girl –”
“You can’t even say her name, can you?” Deacon snarled.
“Once we’re out,” Damien continued, ignoring Deacon’s outburst, “Deacon can follow.”
Maggie opened her car door and carefully stepped out, moving swiftly across the gravel to where the three shifters stood. Deacon watched through the window as she held a quick conversation, which ended in Cormac’s abrupt nod. Maggie turned and waved a hand and Damien threw open his door.
He exited the car, dragging Gemma with him and strode to meet Cormac. Deacon took a deep breath before also climbing out and following slowly.
“Where is Shaun?” Damien was asking when Deacon approached them.
Cormac didn’t reply. He was looking toward the building they’d put the girl in, his lips pursed. “We might need more than one room at this rate. Maybe a five-bedroomed safe house, just to be on the safe side,” he murmured. With a shake of his head, his silver eyes turned to Deacon. “Are you all right?”
Deacon nodded. “It’s been an interesting evening.”
“Gemma, why don’t you go inside?” Cormac turned his attention to her.
“No! She stays with me until I say otherwise.”
A single eyebrow rose and Cormac slowly turned his head. “Do you really think you’re in a position to make demands? You arrogantly believe that you can drive into my Sanctuary, my Pack, and still have the upper hand?”
“No, you could kill me now, but if you do, you will understand nothing. Ask yourself why I have come here.”
“Please, Damien. Let her go,” Maggie stepped forward and rested her hand on his arm. “I’ll stay with you. Do you remember? Before the wrong brother came, we agreed I would stay with you, help you through this.”
Damien’s head jerked around at Maggie’s voice, seeking out the older woman. “This is not what I planned.”
“No, but sometimes we have to adapt,” she told him. “Let her go. She has been through enough.”
Deacon’s eyes narrowed when Damien’s shoulders sagged.
“You blame me,” his cousin whispered. “After everything, you blame me.”
“No, no. Listen to me,” Gemma’s mother moved closer to him. “It takes strength to be here. But you have to be willing to give a little. Let my daughter go inside. We’ll go to the safe room together. I won’t leave you.”
Deacon was about to add his voice to the argument, maybe make a threat or two when his cousin nodded.
“Yes, okay. The girl can go. Maggie will stay. You promise to stay.”
“I promise, Damien.” Maggie turned, caught Deacon’s eye. “Take her inside before he changes his mind.”
Deacon frowned, but nodded. He grasped Gemma’s hand in his and led her toward the house. She followed him, silently, stopping when they entered the hallway and he dropped her hand.
“Stay here,” he told her.
“Right here? I want to …” Her gaze moved to the stairs and he knew she wanted to run to the shower.
Deacon rested his hands on her shoulders. “Please, Gemma?” he said. “I need to know you’ll be waiting here for me.” He waited for her nod before spinning on his heel and going back outside.
Cormac was holding the gun when Deacon returned to the little group waiting by the steps. He was in the middle of emptying it of bullets, which he handed to Caleb.
“Do you acknowledge my position in this pack, Damien?” Cormac asked.
“You were never my Alpha,” Damien replied.
“That wasn’t my question.” Cormac’s eyes flared. “You are on my land, within my Pack Sanctuary. Even other Alphas have to respect my standing here. Do you acknowledge my position?”
“I do.”
“And you understand that you will answer for the crimes you’ve committed against them?”
“You’ll want to hear what I have to tell you before passing judgement.”
“Are you looking for forgiveness?” Cormac asked. “You dragged an innocent into our world, you killed one of ours.”
“I did not kill Scarlet,” he snarled, his cheeks flushing. “Of all the crimes I have committed, that isn’t one of them. I did not kill her.”
“Damien,” Maggie soothed.
“Why do you protect him?” Deacon snapped, unable to stop himself. “After what he did to your daughter, how can you even breathe the same air as him?”
“Can we go to the safe room?” She ignored Deacon’s angry questions and directed her words at Cormac. “The sooner he is there, the sooner this can all be dealt with.”
Cormac flicked a quick glance at Deacon and nodded his head. “This isn’t over with. I want answers.” He waved a hand to Jaden and Caleb who took up position each side of Damien and Maggie and led the way to the building with the safe room inside. Deacon caught up to him.
“I don’t like this. Did you let Shaun know he’s here?”
“Yes. He’s promised to stay away for now, but I’m not sure how long that will last. Has Damien given any sign at all why he’s allowed himself to be brought here?”
Deacon shook his head. “It makes no sense to me. He must know it’s a death sentence.”
“You’d think that,” Cormac murmured. “And the woman? Gemma and Cassie’s mother, I assume?”
“Yeah. I don’t get her attitude.”
“Stockholm syndrome, maybe. If he’s had her for the past four months, it’s a definite possibility.” He opened the door and stepped back to allow Damien and Maggie to precede him, still guarded by Caleb and Jaden.
“What have you done with the girl?” Deacon asked his brother.
“She’s in my room in the house. Asher is in there now doing some kind of tech jiggery-pokery to secure the windows and door so she can’t get out. Not that I’m convinced she has the energy or the enthusiasm to try to escape. I was planning on getting Chase to give her a check-up tomorrow.” He paused. “We couldn’t hide her existence when we moved her, so I’m sure rumours will be flying about who she is and why she’s in my room. I’m just waiting for Isabella to corner me.” His lips lifted into a wry smile. “Just another thing for her to complain about.”
“Have you found out who she is yet?”
Cormac shook his head. “She refuses to speak other than to hurl insults. Not the most stimulating conversations, I have to say. But the alternative is her biting chunks out of my arm. Not sure which I prefer, really.”
Deacon snorted a laugh. “Sounds like your perfect mate.”
Cormac shuddered. “Don’t even joke about it, brother.”
They walked down the stairs to where Jaden and Caleb were hovering in the doorway of the safe room, watching Damien warily as he prowled the room.
“I smell a female.” He looked at Cormac. “She was here recently as well. I recognise her scent.” He bent to the bed, and took a deep breath in through his nose. “It’s not very strong here. She spent no time in this bed.” His head swung around. “There, though,” he pointed to the corner, before striding over to it and inhaling again. “Did you kidnap a female of Jeremiah’s, Cormac?” He swung to face the Pack Alpha.
Cormac shrugged. “You tell me.”
“Interesting.” He cocked his head, staring at Cormac. “Why would you take one of his females? When would you have had the opportunity … unless … Were you at the Cooper house?” He continued to walk around the room, fingers trailing over the walls. “There was a ruckus in the main house this morning about a girl. Let me guess. She has dark hair, eyes so dark they’re almost black, a yellow summer dress, although it’ll be hard to see the colour under all the dirt.” He sniffed the wall, then slanted a look at Cormac. “Yes, I can smell her. She doesn’t like you, doesn’t she?”
“Stop playing games, Damien. Do you know who she is?”
“She belongs to Jeremiah. He’ll come for her. You should have stolen a different female. One he doesn’t care about,” he paused, and frowned. “No, that’s not right. He doesn’t care about her. One he takes less notice of.”
“Who is she to Jeremiah?”
Damien’s smile turned sly. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”
“Damien, do you think it’s time?” Maggie’s voice intruded and all the men turned toward her.
She stood beside the bed, one hand resting on the headboard.
“Do you think it is?” Damien asked her.
“Yes, it’s happening again.”
Deacon looked from the woman to his cousin and back again. What was going on?
Damien moved toward Maggie and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’ll explain this part?”
“I will, I promise.”
He nodded. “Okay, do it then.”
“Do what?” Cormac asked and started forward.
“No. You need to watch this,” Damien turned his head to look at Cormac. “It won’t answer any of your questions, but it’ll be the beginning of your understanding.”
“Mac?” Deacon moved up beside his brother. “I don’t like this.”
“Let’s see this out.” Cormac nodded at Damien. “I won’t hesitate to kill you if I feel it becomes necessary.”
“I know,” Damien’s reply was emotionless. “And I expect nothing less. But I need to speak to Shaun before that happens.” His face turned toward Maggie. “I’m ready.”
She took his hand and rested her fingers over the pulse in his wrist. “Look at me, Damien.” She waited until he lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Narcissism, Self-hatred, Deceit and lies, no quarter given, no forgiveness asked.” As she spoke, Deacon watched his cousin’s eyes slide closed.
“What the fuck?” he whispered and looked at his brother to see the same puzzlement on his face.
“I don’t protect him out of Stockholm syndrome,” Maggie said quietly, as she carefully placed Damien’s hand onto his lap and straightened to face Deacon. “I protect him because the things he does, what he did to Gemma,” her voice broke and she faltered, swallowing. “What he did to your brother, he does because he has no choice, no control over it. This,” she waved a hand toward Damien’s still form, “those words put him into a suggestive state. Using the right command words, you can instruct him to do anything. And he will not stop until the task is complete. When he comes out of it … well, he’s tried to end his life three times that I know of. I’m sure there are many more. They feed him drugs, the drug they fed to your brother, which breaks his concentration and his ability to fight. There are sho
rt periods, like tonight, when he is lucid and aware, but they don’t last long and, unless he returns to that state,” she glanced toward him again, “he becomes violent and dangerous. I think the drugs and conditioning have removed anything remotely close to empathy or emotion unless it directly relates to himself.”
“How long will he stay like that?” Cormac asked.
“Without being given any instructions? A couple of hours, maybe. He’ll wake up disoriented and hungry. The problem you’re going to have is the addiction, unless you do what he’s planning to ask you.”
“And what is that?”
Maggie shook her head. “That’s for him to talk to you about.” She busied herself, settling Damien down onto the bed, straightening his arms and legs and pulling the covers over him. “For now, he’ll rest.”
“How dangerous will he be when he wakes?” Are you safe with him?”
“He hasn’t hurt me in four months. I don’t think he’ll start now.”
“I’ll have food and drink sent down. Jaden, you keep guard – either stay in the room or outside, but you don’t leave this building. Caleb will relieve you at noon.” Cormac checked his watch. “We’ll pick this up in the morning. I think we could all do with some sleep.”
Gemma looked up from her perch on the stairs when the front door opened. Deacon and Cormac walked through and, while they appeared to be deep in conversation, Deacon’s head swung in her direction , his eyes searching her out. He murmured something to his brother, too low for her to hear, and switched direction, striding toward her. Cormac inclined his head, and continued down the hallway, toward his study she guessed.
He paused at the bottom of the stairs, the paw prints wrapping around his hip and down beneath the waistband of his pants in her direct line of sight, and she tipped her head back to look up at him. Without a word, he held out a hand and tugged her to her feet when she placed hers into it.
“Deacon,” she began, and he shook his head.
“Not yet. I need to …” he raked his free hand through his hair. “Just not yet.”