Ilan

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Ilan Page 5

by Dana Archer

“Kitchen,” Uri answers, then shoots me an amused look.

  The urge to put the Royal feline in his place is strong. Jaw clenched, I force my attention from his smug face to the kitchen door. The blonde female who was once marked as fresh meat in a hunt for shifters where humans are the prey strides through the doorway. Although a long-sleeved shirt and pants cover her limbs, my mind supplies the memory of seeing the scars running the length of her arms and legs. She openly displayed the disfigurement inflicted on her a couple of weeks ago at a shifter wedding reception held at the Black Widow.

  And sent her true mate running for the door.

  Uri’s right. The goddesses need to stop meddling in our lives. Or at least tie us to fitting shifter females, not fragile humans who can’t defend themselves against the dangers in our world.

  Ella’s gaze lands on me. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is my house, my kill in the front yard. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Of course, I know that’s not what Ella’s getting at. I have no jurisdiction here. Uri’s right about that too.

  Ella sets her large tote on the table and digs in it. The clanking and clinking of things bumping each other keeps my attention on her, not the murder scene. Or maybe it’s her lack of response. She should be telling me to get out. She’s not. I can’t help but wonder why.

  Finally, she reveals a pen, holding it up as if in victory before dropping it on the table. A clipboard comes out of the tote next. She hands it and the pen out to me. “Then sign and date on the line, and you can stay here.”

  On a heavy sigh, I cross my arms. I don’t need to look at the paper she’s trying to trick me into signing. “I’m not joining Shifter Affairs. I told you this.”

  “That was before you became the guardian of your nephew. Since you’ll now be settling down, you can join.” Ella flashes a triumphant smile. “Unless you’d rather let other males eliminate the threat to your nephew and true mate.”

  I slide my angry glare to Uri. He shrugs. “Ella asked for a quick summary of what I knew. I gave it to her.”

  Ella steps in front of me. She’s not tall enough to block my view of the Royal feline with a loose tongue, however. I hold Uri’s stare, letting him see the payback I’ll be delivering on him as soon as we’re alone.

  “Don’t you ignore me.” Ella stands on her tiptoes and pushes the clipboard into my chest. “We have ten, fifteen minutes top until the cleanup crew arrives. I want this paperwork signed before then.”

  I smack the metal clipboard from Ella’s hands and focus my furious gaze on her. She doesn’t even flinch. She cocks a brow at the fury simmering in my eyes. “I am not joining Shifter Affairs. Not now. Not ever.”

  “Why? The Host has approved of allowing angels to sign on.” Ella leans forward but doesn’t touch me. “They too realize they’ve become obsolete in the modern world.”

  “We’re not obsolete, Ms. Montgomery. Not even close.” In fact, the number of kills assassins have made in this last century has skyrocketed.

  “Ilan’s right.” Dante’s voice reaches me, but I don’t break Ella’s gaze to look at him. “Last I heard, there’s been an effort to build the ranks of the Host. Elders are being called on to take protégés.”

  “And conveniently, I have a kid to raise.” My nephew’s already been marked with the blood of his enemies too. His fate’s sealed. Much like mine is. The only person who still has a chance of escaping a lifetime of blood and death is Sara. I have a duty to make sure her soul isn’t lured into the darkness too. She doesn’t belong there.

  “He’s not yours, though.” Ella’s expression turns contemplative, brows turning down and lips pursing. “Is he?”

  “Ilan will never have kids.” Uri picks up the clipboard I flung. “Sara’s his true mate. You know, the pretty brown-haired waitress from the Black Widow. Species limitations and all that. Unless, of course, he follows the path of the Kagan alpha and turns Sara into a surrogate.”

  Ella looks over her shoulder, breaking the mini dominance battle she’d initiated with me. “Mya’s friend is Ilan’s true mate?”

  “Yep.” Uri nods. “Sara’s the reason he never killed Mya. It had nothing to do with him suddenly caring about whether his mark deserved death. Ilan’s wolves wouldn’t let him cause their true mate anguish. Killing her friend would’ve made Sara cry.”

  “And shifter males hate when their true mates cry or suffer.” Dante focuses on Ella’s arms. Sleeves cover her scars but I know that’s what he’s implying. “A male will blame himself for any pain his true mate experiences, even if he wasn’t around to know she was hurting. You see, her true mate should’ve known, should’ve done something about it.” Dante raises his gaze to Ella’s eyes. “You should ask Zach about how it feels to be a failure. I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it. He’s taken failure to a whole new level.”

  Ella takes a step back. She tucks her long hair behind her ear. The slight tremor in her hand is easy to see. “The three eldest members of the Host have met with both the Shifter Council and the head of Shifter Affairs. They have given their blessing for us to recruit those assassins who have roots in our jurisdictions to work on retainer. It isn’t meant to be full-time work. You can continue taking assignments from the Host. I won’t even ask about them. The less I know, the better.”

  She’s completely ignoring Dante’s comments. Makes me wonder if she knows Zach is her true mate. I’d ask, but this is the most I’ve heard about her offer to me. Last few times she brought it up, I cut her off almost immediately. “Working on retainer? What kind of work are we talking about?”

  “Cases where we need the expertise of an assassin or…” Ella takes the clipboard from Uri’s outstretched hand. “Or cases where a quick, clean kill is called for without the proof required for convictions.”

  “Shifter Affairs already routes requests for assassins through the Shifter Council for approval.” I’ve taken some of those cases. They usually ended up being difficult-to-catch criminals or the extremely perverse, those evil souls who don’t deserve a trial.

  “Approvals like that take too long.” Ella smooths the wrinkled paper on the clipboard. “Some recent incidents have spurred this change. All offices are being asked to identify a lead agent who will make the call on whether an angel of death needs to get brought in.”

  “Ella’s the lucky one in our office.” Uri supplies the detail I could’ve guessed by the direction of this conversation.

  “All that’s left is for me to recruit an assassin with ties to this area.” Ella marks an X next to the line she indicated moments ago for where I should sign, then glances at me. She doesn’t say anything else. The expectant look on her face is enough.

  “Dante has ties to both the Winchester pack and the Alexander pride.” I motion to my protégé. “Both reside in this county.”

  “I’m on a special task force unit. I don’t qualify.” Dante takes the pen from Ella’s hand and shoves it into mine. “Just sign. It’s not a big deal. You’d be getting assignments from Shifter Affairs anyway. You’re just saving Ella from having to make her plea to the Council and wade through red tape.”

  Put that way, I have no reason not to sign. Except for the commitment part. That’s what is really stopping me. I don’t want to commit to keeping a permanent residence in this area. But then again, do I have a choice? Sure, I can pack up my nephew and leave town, but who’d watch the kid while I hunt my targets? Not Sara. His protector would have to kill for him if his life was endangered. I could never ask Sara to do so, and it’ll be years before I can leave my nephew someplace without worrying if he’d still be breathing when I returned. Like it or not, I need a support network.

  On a curse, I grab the clipboard and scribble my name on the line. “I’m not promising I’ll be around—”

  The house phone rings, sending a shrill sound through the kitchen. I can count on one hand the number of times it’s rung. Only a handful of people know the number.

  Leaving Ella with a triumph
ant expression on her face, I snatch the receiver. “Ilan.”

  “Meet me at Sara’s place. We have a situation.” Josh’s voice carries a demand I feel in my bones.

  “What happened?”

  “There’s a shifter in the streets by Sara’s house. She sounded frazzled.”

  I kill the call and bolt out the door, Dante on my heels. The crime scene at my house will have to wait. If this other shifter tried to hurt Sara or my nephew, we’ll have another murder scene. For the first time in my life, I finally understand what drives some males to take on the world. Nobody threatens what’s mine. Nobody.

  Seven

  Ilan

  My wolves slither just beneath my skin. I feel them stretching me, testing me, trying to control me, but I won’t let them out. I can’t. The first rays of the morning sun brighten the sky, drawing the humans living in this neighborhood out of bed and upping the danger. The same smell twined with the dirt behind my house lingers in the alleyway in front of Sara’s home.

  The shifter who threatened my true mate is close. He didn’t run when Ezra chased him. The lion shifter lurked just out of reach, watching Sara’s house, this whole time. Too afraid to make another move on her with Ezra there? Possibly. Despite the limitations of Ezra’s human form, his felines are honed hunters. Now that Josh is in Sara’s home, she has the best of both worlds. She’s safe. So is my nephew. I plan on making sure they stay that way.

  With my flip-flops hung on the spokes of the fence enclosing the backyard, I move silently down the alley, allowing my wolves to assess the situation. Scents reach them, then me. They act as a gateway, sharing only those details important to our pursuit.

  Had I not been trying to keep them from taking over my body, I’d be able to absorb everything, just as they do, deciding for myself what’s important and what’s not. We’re not exactly a cohesive unit, however. Each of my wolves wants to be in charge. None want me to have the power, not when their enemy is close. Each wants the kill. The head butting weakens us.

  Sara can fix us, though.

  The truth is tempting. Peace is tempting. Knowing I’d never again have to fight to keep my wolves in check is tempting. Such is the lure of a true mate. If given a chance to soul-bond, Sara could bridge us, me and my wolves, making me the ultimate warrior.

  “We can be like our creators. Godlike. Unstoppable. Uncontrollable. The ultimate warriors. They know this. That’s why they’ve sequestered the other halves of our souls, allowing only a select few to find peace. Not us. They fear males like us, Ilan. Fear what we can become.”

  Jarah’s words slip through me, the memory drawn up from the depths of my mind. For a moment, I’m there, halfway across the world in a forest that’s nothing but sand and desolation now. Smoke from a campfire stings my eyes. The scent of cooking meat fills my lungs. The face of the man who acted as father, mentor, and disciplinarian fills my vision.

  My steps falter. The memory snaps, dropping me back into the present.

  With a hand splayed on the dirty brick wall of the apartment building not far from Sara’s place, I brace my body. The moment of weakness is all I can allow. My enemy is close. So is my heaven.

  I can’t lose Sara. Ever. Jarah’s words remind me of what awaits me in her arms, of what I’d be turning my back on if I let her go. It’d be foolish to do so just because I want to protect her from my dark soul. Strength matters more than sanity, especially now. The future of my pack rests on my shoulders.

  How I’ll deal with the consequences of claiming my true mate is up in the air, however. She’ll suffer under the onslaught of my sins. I can’t let the worry stop me. I’ll find a way to help her. I have to. A man like me only gets one chance at becoming godlike.

  Pushing from the wall, I jog to the end of the alley. The lion shifter’s scent ends here, right in front of the bus sign.

  “Pickup was seven minutes ago.”

  Dante’s voice draws my gaze to where he’s standing across the street. He took the main road while I chose the alley. Both brought us to this point, a dead end.

  I close the distance between us. “He’s a single shifter.”

  “Krisban pride.” Dante’s nostrils flare on his harsh breaths.

  He doesn’t need to elaborate. I learned everything I needed to know about that particular pride after taking on Dante as my protégé. They’re the ones responsible for pushing the young shifter into violence and, ultimately, into my hands.

  A dip of my chin is enough to convey my understanding. “He dies.”

  “Only after he suffers.” Dante’s pointed look demands my agreement. In this, I don’t have to think twice. A Krisban male raped Dante’s sister, and the rest of the Krisban pride males were responsible for his brother being incarcerated in the shifter prison. Crimes like those are never forgotten or forgiven. They define us.

  “He hurt my true mate, Dante. Could’ve injured my nephew. Do you think there will be any other outcome for him?”

  The enraged glint to Dante’s already dangerous eyes fades. “Possibly. Depends on what your female thinks about torture.”

  “Sara’s not my female.” Officially.

  “Yet.” Dante supplies the truth I’ve omitted and steps into the street. “Once Sara learns what she is to you, she’ll change your mind.”

  I follow after Dante and grab his shoulder, jerking his body so he’s facing me. “I won’t be telling Sara about our bond.”

  Not yet, anyway. Not until I figure out how to lure an angel into darkness.

  The corner of Dante’s lip quivers on a smirk. “I never pegged you as a coward. Guess I was wrong.”

  With that, Dante walks backward into oncoming traffic, never taking his mocking glare off me. A horn blares. The shouts of the driver who almost hit Dante cut through the morning air. Still, Dante takes slow steps backward, forcing another driver to slam on his brakes. This human leans out the window as he hurls obscenities at Dante.

  At the mention of being a crazed animal, Dante stops, then pivots and lowers his chin, focusing on the human behind the wheel. I’m not at the right angle to see Dante’s eyes, but I can guess what’s in them. Dante’s let his cats look through his eyes, exactly as he had with Sara.

  The human male jumps from the car. Pure terror shows in his expression. A line of piss soaks the leg of his pants. Tears leak from his eyes. With the Lord’s Prayer on his lips, he runs in the opposite direction. The car he was driving lurches forward. Dante stops it with his outstretched hand on the hood.

  Cursing, I lunge for the open driver’s door, then steer the car to the side of the road. With the hazard lights and brake on, I leave the keys in the ignition and lock the door, then turn to glare at Dante.

  The spot where he stood moments ago is empty. A quick scan of the area doesn’t reveal him either. The why is obvious. He took off. Probably to get himself under control, exactly as I’d taught him. A shifter on the edge is dangerous. An assassin teetering on the brink of rage is a threat to everyone around him.

  Shaking my head, I make my way to Sara’s place. Dante’s not my responsibility. Not anymore.

  I have new ones.

  The walk back to Sara’s place winds tension into my muscles. I’m in unfamiliar territory where Sara and my nephew are concerned. Not over their safety. That I can secure. Death has scented this Krisban male who foolishly tried to hurt what’s mine. It’s only a matter of time before his body is rotting in an unmarked grave. His blood on my hands.

  The protectiveness and possessiveness riding me ever since seeing Sara with my nephew needs to be dealt with before I make a rash choice like soul-bonding with Sara without prepping her to deal with the darkness in my soul. If I do, she might lose her mind, or her soul might wither, her light dimming. Neither can happen. I need my true mate. Sara has to strengthen me so I can defend her and my nephew. Without my alpha or twin in the picture, my pack’s future is mine to secure.

  And that leaves me with one question.

  Am I strong enou
gh to help Sara deal with the horrors lurking in my soul?

  Movement on the raised porch off Sara’s house drags my attention there instead of the question I don’t have an answer to.

  Josh steps from the shadows, his frame filling a hole in the railing, the evidence of the fight that must’ve taken place here tonight. “Any luck?”

  A small shake of my head is the only answer I give. Losing the Krisban male isn’t a failure, nor has my prey escaped. He’s only gone into hiding. But I have his scent. That’s all I need to make the kill.

  The moment I join Josh on the porch, Sara’s sweet smell hits me. The lure to her is stronger than it has ever been. Touching her must’ve amplified my awareness of my true mate. Or maybe sharing air with her did it. Neither had been avoidable. She reached for me at Rick and Mya’s wedding, taking the choice out of my hands. And Dante allowing his cats to assess Sara forced me to calm her, drawing her back from the same primal fear the human driver from moments ago faced.

  The universe is conspiring against me. Or I should say, my grandmother is contriving some sick plot to test me. To see if I’m worthy enough to be godlike? Damned if I know.

  “Ezra said the male lurked outside the yard until ten minutes ago, taunting him.”

  Josh’s statement strikes me as unexpected. I let the question show in my expression. “Ezra spoke to you?”

  “Through Mira. Ezra’s in his jaguar form, his tiger too revved to make the kill. It doesn’t care humans are around.”

  “You brought your pregnant mate here?” I look pointedly at the jagged wood, what’s left of the railing around the porch. “Where there’s a threat close?”

  Josh slides his gaze to the house. “There was no way I would’ve been able to keep Mira at home once she learned about the baby. Besides, she’s in no danger with me.”

  That’s assuredness I hear in Josh’s voice. I study the human who gave me a job all those years ago when I had no work history to speak of and no residence. All I’d had was my car and the duffel bag carrying the stuff around that allowed me to fit into the human world.

 

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