Ilan

by Dana Archer

  “Did he now?” Dante studies me intently. “Did Nolan mention why he didn’t go after him?”

  “He wanted to save Daegan.” And while it sounds like the noble and logical thing to do, I can’t help but wonder why Nolan bothered. Royals can survive a lot as long as they don’t lose their head or heart. Daegan’s head was still attached. Okay, it was barely still attached. Apparently, a few millimeters was enough to keep Daegan from dying, though.

  Dante grunts as if thinking the same thing. “We need to talk to Daegan.”

  “Do you think he’s awake?”

  He shakes his head. “We would’ve gotten a call.”

  “What about mind to mind? He’s feline. You’re feline. You can talk to each other that way once he’s awake enough to break through the fog in his mind, right?” That’s the gist of what I’ve learned of the mystical way Royals can communicate with each other, anyway.

  “Yes. That’s how it works.”

  “Did he speak to Ezra yet, then? Or Uri? I thought he was staying there for a while.” Along with Nolan.

  Dante sets his laptop on the cushion next to him. He pulls out his phone and sends a text. After a moment, his phone dings with a reply. “Uri’s not there anymore. He’s doing legwork for Ilan now.”

  “So that only leaves Nolan.”

  “Yes.” Dante closes his laptop, his fingers lingering on the surface. “And Nolan is a Shifter Affairs agent. He’s used to collecting evidence and statements.”

  “True.” I glance at Soren. While I love spending time snuggling with him, I also want to see the threats to both him and Ilan eliminated. “But maybe we can make the drive out there anyway and visit Daegan and Ezra before it gets too late.”

  “I’ll make the trip.” Dante sends another text, then stands. “You’re staying here.”

  I suck on my bottom lip for a minute as I struggle with my wants versus what’s best. Finally, I exhale. “If Nolan is still there, I want to talk to him more. He seemed eager to spend time with me last time. Maybe I can get more details about Daegan’s attack and about the scent of bear he smelled there. I’m having a hard time believing he’s suddenly so concerned about Daegan, a man he didn’t seem to have too much empathy for the first time he spoke of Daegan’s suffering.”

  “They’re from the same pride.”

  “And if a member of your birth pride was suffering, would you be sitting by their bedside?” From the snippets I picked up about Dante’s past, I’m guessing something horrid happened to send him off to live with the Winchester pack.

  After a long moment, Dante shakes his head. “I’m still not sure there’s any reason for you to go.”

  “People don’t consider me a threat, Dante. That lion shifter who tried to attack Soren didn’t. He came right at me even while I held a gun on him.” Of course, I didn’t actually kill him, but I did slow him down long enough for Ezra to finish him off. “And honestly, none of you do. You’ve all shared secrets about the shifter world with me, things I’m going to bet I shouldn’t know. Like that mind-talking ability. Granted, I’d never betray any of you, but you don’t know that for certain. It’s not as if I’m a permanent part of your world yet.”

  Dante turns slightly, facing me with the same stark scrutiny he did the first time I met him. His cold, dark eyes don’t scare me like they did then. Maybe because I’ve spent time with him. Maybe because I trust him. I’m not sure, but I hold his gaze until he smirks. “You have a way about you, Sara. You make people feel welcome and comfortable, as if we’re best friends or you’re my little sister.”

  Dante’s words warm me, right down to my soul. I glance at Soren and grin wider at the sucking motions he’s making while sleeping. This little baby feels safe with me too. So does his uncle. I’m the one female Ilan waited millennia for. “Nolan felt the same way you do too. There was really no reason for him to tell me about his missing mate and kids, but he did. I want to see what else he’ll tell me.”

  Without saying another word, Dante sends a series of texts. His phone dings with several replies. After a moment of back-and-forth typing, he scoops Soren from my arms. “Go get dressed. Ilan knows where we’re going. He’s not exactly happy about it but says you’re probably right. If Nolan has something to hide, you might be the only one to get it out of him.”

  A wave of happiness slips through me, making my smile the wide and pleased kind. I glance at the floor, suddenly shy with Ilan’s praise, then flick my gaze to Dante as he walks to the door. I hurry after him. “Where are you taking Soren?”

  “Nowhere.”

  The front door opens before I can question Dante’s response. A gorgeous white-haired woman with a body that would turn every man’s head steps through.

  “Thanks for coming inside, Corey.” Dante greets her with a familiarity that reflects the connection Jarah hinted Dante and Corey share.

  Corey doesn’t look at Dante or respond. She zeroes in on the baby in his arms. Her eyes light up the way mine do when I see babies. “He’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah.” Dante studies the drowsy but awake infant in his arms. “Guess even the most evil of our kind can have beautiful kids.”

  “Brock wasn’t evil.” Corey finally looks at Dante’s face. “A jerk, but not evil.”

  Dante steps closer to Corey and reaches around her to shut the door at her back, then steps forward, his hand lingering on the closed door by her head. “I was talking about Ilan.”

  The denial sits on the tip of my tongue. The exchange between Corey and Dante stalls my retort. Energy sizzles in the air around them.

  “This isn’t Ilan’s child, though. Makes your comment sound ridiculous.” Corey grins. “Especially since Brock and Ilan weren’t identical twins.”

  “Biology doesn’t always matter, Corey. Neither do blood ties. This is Ilan and Sara’s son now.” Dante glances over his shoulder to catch my gaze. “And he’s a lucky kid to be loved and accepted so young. Took me a long time to find my home.”

  A soft sigh slips past my lips. I nod, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. My family is unorthodox, but they’re still mine. And at the moment, the circle of my family keeps growing. So does my determination to see them safe and happy.

  I step next to Corey and Dante and brush my hand over Soren’s head. “Then let’s go see Daegan so we can make sure Soren keeps Ilan as a father figure in his life.”

  Thirty-One

  Ilan

  The number of security checks and procedures we had to endure to register Jarah as my guest at Shifter Affairs was ridiculous, but I understand the need for the intense scrutiny. The information contained in this building must be safeguarded, but the only thing that ultimately allowed Jarah’s entrance into this modern stronghold was his connection to the Host.

  I step off the elevator, Jarah at my side, and scan the nameplates on the doors. Zeroing in on Agent Ella Montgomery’s office, I turn down the hallway.

  “Agent Ella Montgomery.” Jarah makes a derisive sound. “Never in my life have I met so many humans with such an intimate connection to our world than I have in the past few years. It almost feels deliberate, as if our goddesses have contrived some sort of plan and unleashed it upon us in this century.”

  Jarah’s random comment stills my steps. I stop and study him. “How so? You’ve been involved with the witches for millennia, following their bloodlines and identifying those with the strongest abilities.”

  “Yes, my connections to the witches have been very deliberate. The humans have a good expression for that.” Jarah grins. “Keep your friends close and enemies closer. With the ancient magic within their grasp, the witches could be our downfall if allowed to develop their abilities to their fullest extent. It only makes sense to watch them closely and rein in the ones with too much natural talent. But no, in this instance, I’m talking about human true mates. Our species seems to be infested with them.”

  In other words, kill those who show signs of grasping the darkest of magics, the kind our sha
man ancestors wielded. That’s what Jarah is implying, and honestly, it doesn’t surprise me. Nor would I be surprised to learn other ancients haven’t also been watching and curtailing the human witches through the ages. I put the thought aside and focus on the rest of Jarah’s statement. “I’m not sure infested is the most appropriate term to be using around me considering my true mate is human.”

  Rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner, Jarah sighs. “Living among humans has sensitized you, my son.”

  “Turned me protective, not sensitized. And when that particular instinct is triggered for a shifter, they become defensive.” I wave off Jarah’s retort the moment he opens his mouth, and continue without allowing him any opening. “But I do agree with your conclusion about our goddesses. I think they’ve contrived something. There’s no other explanation for the…unusual pairings I’ve seen develop over the past year.”

  Jarah raises a brow, then chuckles. “That’s a very politically correct way of putting it. Multiple, same-sex, and cross-species pairings have become the new norm. And even more surprising is the acceptance of the heavens for such traditionally viewed abnormal bonds.”

  “What does your mother have to say about them?” I study Jarah, trying to read into his body language, but nothing shows in his expression. He stares back at me, holding my probing gaze with one of his own.

  Finally, Jarah wets his lower lip and exhales. “War is brewing, Ilan Kane. Surely you feel it? The tension in the air, as if we’re hovering on the brink of something massive and all it will take is one thing to set it off.”

  “Yes, I feel it.” So do many shifters. Hiding what we are is now an elaborately complicated endeavor involving the very species we’re trying to remain hidden from.

  “And the goddesses want to win it, Ilan. At all costs.” Jarah leans close and lowers his voice. “And it has nothing to do with suddenly desiring to see their children or the offspring of their lovers happy. Don’t ever forget shifters are the product of the war that’s raged among the heavens since time began. And in any war, you need someone to fight, someone to die.”

  “And those who possess the godlike traits of the heavens have a better shot at winning.”

  “Yes.” Jarah turns and heads toward Ella’s office. “And I plan on being one of the heavens’ warriors. No matter what it takes to earn my place among the worthy or who I have to eliminate to make room for me.”

  While harsh, I expect nothing less from the oldest living assassin walking this earth. I reach the door a moment before Jarah and grab the handle. Before I open it, I meet Jarah’s gaze. “Just remember, Jarah. Your goddess might not judge your methods poorly, but your true mate very well might. For me, no one else’s acceptance matters more than Sara’s. Not my goddess. Not you. Nobody. Only the female meant to share my soul has any hold over me.”

  “And that’s what allows you to be godlike.” Jarah speaks the words in a low whisper as if conveying a secret, then he flashes a wicked grin. “But you should remain politically correct, my son. My true mate might not necessarily be a female. Mine might be a male, or I might even have more than one partner. In any number of combinations. Honestly, I probably need multiple lovers to unleash me. Actually, several females focused solely on my pleasure might be exactly what I need to keep me satisfied.”

  “Very true.” Laughing, I open the door. “Or several male lovers who teach you how to submit.”

  Ella’s raised brow and confused expression greets us as we enter her office. “I’m not sure what the two of you were discussing, but I hope you have no plans on continuing it here. We have a situation on our hands, and it doesn’t involve Jarah’s sex life.”

  I close the door, sealing us into the soundproof room. “And that is?”

  Ella opens a file on her desk and sets a satellite image on top of the manila folder. “Uri’s found the coal mine where Gabriel is being kept.”

  I snatch the picture. “And? That sounds like a positive thing.”

  “The mine is in the process of being sealed as it’s been deemed unstable.” Ella pulls out another picture and a poorly copied document. “There have been explosions and cave-ins. Several workers have lost their lives. I’ve requested a map of the mine to plan a rescue, but it’s going to be dangerous, even for Royal shifters.”

  Jarah shakes his head. “As long as we don’t lose our heads or—”

  “The pressure of an explosion or a cave-in might very well explode your hearts or blow your bodies apart, including your heads.” Ella’s voice is the matter-of-fact kind. “And even if you survive that, you’d be buried alive. We’d have to plan another rescue mission to dig you out, which would put even more lives at risk. So when I say it’ll be dangerous, I’m not saying that lightly.”

  With a small smile playing on Jarah’s lips, he dips his head. “Noted, Agent Montgomery.”

  “Gabriel says they’ve been feeding him, likely in preparation for a withdrawal.” And if they’re able to get food to him, Gabriel must be in a somewhat stable area. Hopefully.

  “Then it’ll likely happen in the next few days. The final entrance is to be sealed soon.” Ella makes a note on a sticky pad next to her keyboard. “I’m pulling in extra help on this one, but don’t expect anything from me until tomorrow at the earliest. I need Uri to get his hands on that map before we can do anything.”

  “What do you need from me?” Because I should be doing something. Relying on so many other people to protect my pack doesn’t feel natural.

  Ella gathers the contents from the file, taps the picture and papers on her desk, then slides everything back into the folder. “Get some sleep and prepare for the worst, hope for the best. I’ll be doing the same.”

  I glance at the couch with its pillow and blanket. “Here, right?”

  “Yes.” Ella chuckles. “I practically live here. I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything waiting at home for me.”

  “Then maybe you should get yourself a cat, Agent Montgomery. I hear they can be tamed and trained if you know how to capture their attention.”

  Jarah’s comment brings a smile to Ella’s face. The bitterness in her expression doesn’t make it a very welcoming or happy look, however. “Unless it’s afraid of humans. Then you have to handle the feral little jerk with thick gloves until it gets used to being touched.”

  Jarah’s full-body laugh fills the room. “Very true. Very true. I wish you luck with that.”

  “I don’t believe in luck. I believe in not giving up until you win. No matter what it takes to claim the victory.” Ella drops the manila folder into her top desk drawer, locks it, and slips the key around her neck. “And at the moment, I want to successfully retrieve Gabriel Kane, not tame a cat.”

  “Then let’s make it happen.” I turn for the door. “Call me with an update.”

  “Only if you pick up the encrypted phone waiting for you along with the other necessities given out to new agents.” Ella’s smiling when I glance at her. “First-floor supply counter, and don’t forget to smile for your official ID picture.”

  I narrow my eyes, then walk out the door instead of replying. I have no comeback. My signature on the dotted line committed me to this agency and this area. So much for avoiding responsibility. And while I still don’t have a full picture of exactly what’s expected of me, I’m in a hundred percent. Fighting for what’s mine is coming as naturally as silently eliminating strangers marked to die. I never would’ve expected it either, but like Jarah, I pity anyone who thinks to stand in my way.

  Thirty-Two

  Sara

  With a freshly brewed mug of coffee sitting on the table before me, I flip through the real estate section of the newspaper, more to pass the time than because I’m actually shopping for a new house. Unless Nolan decides to leave the hospital, he’ll be making his way here soon. Dante was planning to kick him out of Daegan’s room.

  The sound of footsteps stills my hand for a moment, and my heart races. I reach for the coffee mug and lift it
to my lips, letting the warmth and scent soothe my nerves. Getting people to talk to me is one thing. Planning a deliberate conversation where I have an ulterior motive is another. It leaves me feeling fake, and that is not the impression I want to give Nolan.

  “We need to stop meeting like this. Your male is going to get the wrong idea about the two of us.”

  Nolan’s statement tears a small chuckle from me, accomplishing what I’d been struggling with. My shoulders relax. “I don’t think that’ll happen. Ilan trusts me.”

  “Trust has nothing to do with instincts.”

  “True.” I motion to the coffeepot behind me. “But if you’re willing to risk your life, there’s a freshly brewed pot waiting as your reward. You don’t even have to sit with me if you’re worried about Ilan. I’m content reading the paper by myself.”

  Nolan heads toward the table where the pot and mugs are set out. “You’re waiting for Dante this time?”

  “And to see Ezra. Dr. Kagan said his brain activity is normal, and so are his vitals. Her guess is he’s now in a deep sleep, probably the last stage before he wakes. She’s going to give him something to see if she can help him along.”

  “Oh.” Nolan pauses with his fingers wrapped around the handle of the pot. “That’s good. Maybe Daegan will wake soon too.”

  “Yes, hopefully. I know Ilan is anxious to find out more about the attack on him, especially about the scent of bear. It might be the clue we need.” I take a sip of coffee and follow Nolan’s exaggeratedly slow motions as he fixes his cup, adding sugar and half-and-half. “Ilan’s thinking that since Daegan is older than you, he might recognize the scent.”

  A mocking laugh shakes Nolan’s chest. “It has nothing to do with recognizing the bear shifter. I know who it was.”

  “You lied?” My shock is real, not faked like my reason for being here.

  “Lie is such a strong word.” Nolan turns to me with an amused smile playing on his lips. “And it also doesn’t apply in this case. I never said I didn’t recognize him.”