Summary:
THIRDS, Inc #7
Life for Dexter J. Daley has never been easy, but he’s always found a way to pick himself back up with a smile on his face. Taken from his home, and the arms of his boyfriend and THIRDS partner, Sloane Brodie, Dex finds himself in a situation as mysterious and lethal as the Therian interrogating him. Dex learns what he’s secretly believed all along: his parents’ death wasn’t an accident.
Discovering the whole truth about John and Gina Daley’s homicide sets off a series of events that will change Dex and Sloane’s lives forever. As buried secrets rise to the surface and new truths are revealed, Dex and Sloane’s love for each other is put to the test, with more than their relationship on the line. If traversing the waters of murder and secret government agencies wasn’t enough, something inexplicable has been happening to Dex—and nothing will ever be the same.
Discovering the whole truth about John and Gina Daley’s homicide sets off a series of events that will change Dex and Sloane’s lives forever. As buried secrets rise to the surface and new truths are revealed, Dex and Sloane’s love for each other is put to the test, with more than their relationship on the line. If traversing the waters of murder and secret government agencies wasn’t enough, something inexplicable has been happening to Dex—and nothing will ever be the same.
Just like all my reviews I won't spoil anything even though this is a long ago written series, I came late to the party and I know there are many out there who have yet to experience everything Dex, Sloane, and the whole THIRDS gang so I won't touch on anything plot-wise.
Just like in my original review, I still found #7 & 8 so closely linked that just as with the reading form, the audios had to be listened to together and reviewed together.
Honestly, as much as I love the whole THIRDS gang, Dex and Sloane have always been my favorite. Is it because they were the initial introduction couple? Maybe. Is it because their chemistry is so unforgettable? Perhaps. Is it that their level of snark and cuddle is so snarky and so cuddley? Possibly. Frankly, I think it's a case of all three and so much more that I just can't find the proper words for. So what I will say is this: Mark Westfield's voice brings to life Charlie Cochet's words and characters so powerfully and spot on that I can see it happening right in front of me, I feel like I'm a fly on the wall, a window shopper on the street, if I stretched out my arm I could touch them, that's how vivid and real Westfield and Cochet make the story.
Spot on all the way around and definitely worthy of many re-listens for years to come.
Original Review October 2017:
Combined Review for Books #7 & 8
Blogger Note: For me, more than any of the series yet these two are so connected that I feel they are almost one super large novel. Though you must read the whole series in order as the characters and storylines are interwoven, its most important that #7 & #8 are read in order IMO. I had the luxury of reading them when they were not new releases so I didn't have the "waiting period" between and frankly I'm super glad for it 😉.
Dexter J Daley, lover of all things 80s & all things Sloane Brodie, is about to have his life turned upside down once again but this time he learns new facts about the past which directly effects his future as well as that of all the members of Destructive Delta and their friends. As much as Dex and Sloane are devoted to each other, will their love survive these new found truths and changes?
As followers to my blog and reviews know, I don't do spoilers and I definitely don't want to spoil any elements of mysteries so I won't touch on any specific plot points for Smoke & Mirrors or Thick & Thin but I will say this: I was blown away and thrown for a loop farther than anything one of Delta's shifters could have hit me with. "Holy Hannah Batman!" came out of my mouth more than once and considering I was reading these while enjoying the refreshing fall air under my maple tree in my front yard and trying not to scare the neighbors with my sudden outbursts, I think those three little words sums up how I felt reading these two better than anything else I could come up with here.
Even though Dex is at the heart of these two installments, don't think Charlie Cochet has forgotten the rest of the team, their friends, family, and co-workers but we also discover a new enemy who may or may not be what Delta is led to believe. Yeah, I know I'm being cryptic but its the closest thing you're going to get out of me concerning the plot 😉.
As I said when I reviewed Hell & High Water #1 a few weeks ago, I had this series on my TBR list for a few years but now that I've read it I can't begin to guess what took so long. Brilliance from beginning to end and I can't wait to see where the author takes these characters in the future but I do know that I will be among the first in line to read any new adventures and they won't be lingering-in-waiting on my TBR list any more.
RATING:
Dexter J Daley, lover of all things 80s & all things Sloane Brodie, is about to have his life turned upside down once again but this time he learns new facts about the past which directly effects his future as well as that of all the members of Destructive Delta and their friends. As much as Dex and Sloane are devoted to each other, will their love survive these new found truths and changes?
As followers to my blog and reviews know, I don't do spoilers and I definitely don't want to spoil any elements of mysteries so I won't touch on any specific plot points for Smoke & Mirrors or Thick & Thin but I will say this: I was blown away and thrown for a loop farther than anything one of Delta's shifters could have hit me with. "Holy Hannah Batman!" came out of my mouth more than once and considering I was reading these while enjoying the refreshing fall air under my maple tree in my front yard and trying not to scare the neighbors with my sudden outbursts, I think those three little words sums up how I felt reading these two better than anything else I could come up with here.
Even though Dex is at the heart of these two installments, don't think Charlie Cochet has forgotten the rest of the team, their friends, family, and co-workers but we also discover a new enemy who may or may not be what Delta is led to believe. Yeah, I know I'm being cryptic but its the closest thing you're going to get out of me concerning the plot 😉.
As I said when I reviewed Hell & High Water #1 a few weeks ago, I had this series on my TBR list for a few years but now that I've read it I can't begin to guess what took so long. Brilliance from beginning to end and I can't wait to see where the author takes these characters in the future but I do know that I will be among the first in line to read any new adventures and they won't be lingering-in-waiting on my TBR list any more.
Summary:
Demon Magic #2
Smart men quit while they’re ahead—they lay low and hope disaster blows on by them. Not me. Especially when disaster seems to follow me and my soulmate Havoc, a demon I bound to me three hundred years ago with my magic.
The dark mage Geoff is back from the dead and creating chaos by devouring the hearts of people with magical abilities, giving him overwhelming power as his followers grow. And since I’m one of the strongest mages alive and am leading the resistance against him, he’s coming for me next. Oh, and it might have something to do with the fact that I was also the one who originally killed him. But you can’t blame me; the guy needed to die.
Havoc and I, along with our unlikely band of… (I don’t want to say heroes, I can’t give them that much credit) annoyances will stop at nothing to end the destruction. It doesn’t hurt that there’s a sexy demon by my side every step of the way. For the first time in three hundred years, I’m finally with the person meant for me, and I will do anything to keep from losing him.
Familiar Beginnings is a 63k word sequel to Happy Endings. It contains a powerful mage who just wants to be left in peace, a mysterious curly-haired troublemaker, gargoyles that are literally dumber than stone, a river trip that doesn’t feel at all like a vacation, and a “cat” with some unusual features and deadly claws.
Summary:
RIPP: Researchers In Paranormal Phenomenon Prequel
Wanna check out early? Blame the ghost. Get your money back? Sure, ghost. Imagine your best friend naked? Yeah, ghost—no, wait a minute.
When my best friend, Tate, called a few years ago to ask me to help him run the Narrow Peaks Ski Resort, I jumped at the chance. Skiing is one of the things I’m most passionate about—that and pretending not to notice how hot Tate is. This is my dream job, but never in a million years did I think I’d be fielding demands from guests trying to check out early because they claim their cabin is haunted. I can’t deny how creepy some of their stories are, though.
Even while being spooked every time I turn around, I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of Tate. The guy that put me in the friend zone years ago. Kill me now.
When the two men end up sharing a cabin together, will they finally take a chance on each other? Or will the dangers inside break them for good?
The Ghost in the Emerald Cabin is a prequel in the RIPP (Researchers In Paranormal Phenomenon) series. It’s a 21K word standalone MM romance novella with creepy fun, two guys who are completely clueless, icky ski hats, a spooktastic cabin, snowballs, and don’t forget there might be a ghost!
Intended for audiences 18 years and older.
Summary:
Heat of Love #3
A pregnant omega trapped in a desperate situation, an unattached alpha with a lot to prove, and an unexpected fall into love that could save them both.
Kerry Monkburn is contracted to a violent alpha in prison for brutal crimes. Now pregnant with the alpha’s child, he lives high in the mountains, far above the city that once lured him in with promises of a better life. Enduring bitterness and fear, Kerry flirts with putting an end to his life of darkness, but fate intervenes.
Janus Heelies has made mistakes in the past. In an effort to redeem himself, integrity has become the watchword for his future. Training as a nurse under the only doctor willing to take him on, Janus is resolute in his intentions: he will live cleanly in the mountains and avoid all inappropriate affairs. But he doesn’t anticipate the pull that Kerry exercises on his heart and mind.
As the question of Kerry’s future health and safety comes to an explosive head, only the intervention of fate will see these desperate men through to a happy ending.
This gay romance novel by Leta Blake is the third in the Heat of Love universe which began with Slow Heat. It’s 111,000 words, with a strong happy ending and a critically-acclaimed, non-shifter Omegaverse. It features alphas, betas, omegas, male pregnancy, mpreg, heat, and knotting. Content warning for a violent and oppressive society regarding reproductive rights.
Summary:
Dragon's #1
A crush he can’t shake…
Flint has been harboring a crush six month long crush on one of his regular customers. Ever since the mysterious man started coming into the coffee shop, Flint can’t stop thinking about him. He never dreamed that Leo would arrive one day and ask him on a date and change his entire life.
A desire he ignored…
Leonidas is over two thousand years old. He’s the last of five dragons and has accepted that he’ll be alone for the rest of his life. That doesn’t stop him from wishing he could be with the cute barista. There’s just one problem: Flint can’t know about Leo’s dragon form.
A future together
When the Fates give the dragons a second chance and allow them to seek out their fated mates, Leo seizes his chance. When Flint is overcome with a heat brought on by meeting his fated dragon mate, Leo claims him.
Before the two can have their happy-ever-after, an old enemy rips them apart.
This is a short, sweet romance with a HEA. It contains mpreg and is the first of the Dragons Series.
Smoke & Mirrors by Charlie Cochet
Chapter One
SOUND EXPLODED in Dex’s ears. His head throbbed, and his face hurt. He tasted blood, and his body didn’t feel like his own as he struggled through the lethargy. His limbs felt heavy, like he was swimming in molasses. With a groan, he forced his eyes open. It was dark save for the halo of light floating somewhere above his head. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was Sloane’s strong arms around him, wrapping him up in warmth, holding him close. Sloane had nuzzled his face in Dex’s hair, then kissed him good night, followed by a soft “I love you.”
Sloane….
Dex bolted upright, a gasp caught in his throat as he surfaced through the haze. His eyes widened, and his heart beat furiously as he realized his wrists and ankles were zip-tied to a chair.
“What the hell is this?” He looked up and reeled from the stabbing white light. It seared his vision, and he shut his eyes tight for several seconds. A halo was all he could see before he was finally able to focus on the stretch of nothingness around him. Shadows surrounded him on all sides, the only light coming from the lamp hanging over his head. “Hello?” It struck him then.
They’d taken him from his home.
Oh God, where was Sloane? His blood ran cold, and he jerked against the restraints. “Somebody answer me!”
“You’re awake. Good.”
Dex froze. He peered into the shadows and could just about make out an outline, along with the glow of eyes. A Therian.
“Who are you? What is this?” Dex demanded, his voice hoarse from his dry throat. It was like his mouth was full of cotton. Most likely a result from whatever they’d given him to knock him out. He did his best to ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Someone had broken into his house and taken him from his boyfriend’s arms. He had no idea where Sloane was or the condition he was in. Was he hurt… or worse? Please let him be okay.
“I’ll be the one asking the questions here, Agent Daley.”
“Where’s Sloane?”
A tall wolf Therian in an expensive gray suit emerged from the shadows. “Looking for you, I imagine. I don’t really care. My interest lies with you, not Sloane Brodie.”
Dex had expected a thug or a raging psychopath. The Therian before him didn’t appear to be either, but appearances could be deceiving. Refined, smooth, chiseled jaw, and handsome, with rich black hair neatly styled, he looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties. The Therian cocked his head to one side, his sharp gray eyes studying Dex. He seemed to come to some kind of conclusion and pulled a chair out from the darkness to place in front of Dex.
Dex studied his adversary, noting how nonchalantly he unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket and took a seat. He crossed one leg over the other and placed his laced fingers over one knee, as if he were about to have an informal business chat.
“Where is it?” he asked smoothly.
“Why do you spooks always start with such cryptic questions?” Dex frowned down at himself. “Why am I in a suit?” He was pretty sure he’d gone to bed in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. The suit was tailored to fit. Everything from the black dress pants to the pristine white button-down shirt to the black jacket fit like a glove. Even his shoes hugged his feet comfortably. “How do you know my shoe size?”
“I know everything about you.”
Dex glanced around the room. There were no cameras, windows, nothing but the bare concrete floor and walls. “Why?”
“Where is the file?”
“Why the tie?” This was bizarre. Someone had painstakingly fixed a tie around his neck while he’d been unconscious. Who kidnapped people and dressed them up in fancy clothes?
“Answer the question.”
“How about we start small,” Dex offered. “What do I call you?” He needed to figure a way out of this. There had to be a door somewhere behind the Therian. The guy hadn’t just materialized out of thin air. Of course, first Dex would have to get himself out of the chair. It was steel and bolted to the floor.
“Don’t act cute with me, Agent Daley.” The wolf Therian smiled pleasantly. “And you can call me Mr. Wolf.”
Mr. Wolf. Right. “Now who’s being cute?”
Wolf chuckled. “I do appreciate a man with a good sense of humor. You’re very charming.” He looked Dex over and smiled warmly. “You’re taller than I imagined, and your photo hardly does you justice. You’re far more handsome in person.” He motioned to his own eyes. “Beautiful color. Absolutely stunning.”
Dex leaned forward, his lips curling up wickedly. “You trying to get information out of me or date me?”
Wolf chuckled. “I can see you’re going to be a handful. All right, Agent Daley—May I call you Dex? Agent seems so formal.”
“Sure.”
“Dex, your little ‘I’m just a ditzy blond’ act isn’t going to fly with me. I know perfectly well who you are and what you’re capable of.”
Dex sat back with a smile. “Do you now? FYI, I’m more of a dirty blond.”
Wolf arched an eyebrow at him. The man wasn’t quite sure what to make of Dex. Despite Wolf’s calm and nonthreatening demeanor, something in his eyes warned Dex to tread lightly.
Wolf cleared his throat before continuing. “Dexter Justice Daley, born August 18, 1980. Only child to Gina and John Daley. Adopted by Anthony Maddock. Adopted brother, Cael Maddock. You were an HPF officer before becoming a detective like your father before you. Then you testified against your partner for shooting an unarmed Therian youth in the back. Your boyfriend at the time, Louis Huerta, walked out on you.
“You were hired by the THIRDS and appointed a Defense agent for Unit Alpha’s Destructive Delta. Your Team Leader is Sloane Brodie, a First Gen jaguar Therian who spent the majority of his youth in the First Gen Research Facility being prodded and poked like a lab rat. You’ve been together for a year and roughly two and a half months—he had a few commitment issues to work out. This month he moved in with you. He thinks you need to eat healthier, and he’s correct. You consume copious amounts of caffeine, sugar, and red meat, have a somewhat unusual obsession with the eighties, and enjoy karaoke. Have I left anything out?”
Who was this guy, and how did he know so much? Dex smiled widely. “Yeah, I love dancing, sadly can’t hold my liquor, and give great head.”
Wolf’s eyebrows shot up before his expression returned to its previous impassive state. He shifted in his chair, and Dex held back a grin. He could use this. Dex held Wolf’s gaze.
“Did you know I can make my boyfriend purr in Human form? And I don’t mean figuratively. I mean, I can literally make him purr.”
Wolf peered at him before brushing some nonexistent lint from his suit jacket. “Not possible.”
“Oh, but it is,” Dex replied, his voice low and husky. “I’m good with my mouth.”
Wolf smoothed down his tie before meeting Dex’s gaze. He carried on as if he hadn’t heard Dex. “I know you would risk everything for your loved ones. Your career, your heart, your life. You have a fierce sense of justice. I know at this very moment you’re considering your options and how you can get out of that chair. Those are Therian-strength zip ties, Dex. You won’t be going anywhere, and unlike most, I won’t underestimate you. You’re quite good at discovering your opponent’s vulnerabilities. Fortunately for me, I have none. I know you play the fool, act the class clown, hiding who you really are.”
Dex cocked his head to one side and smiled. “And who’s that?”
“A very dangerous man.”
Here he was tied to a chair, and he was dangerous? “That’s funny.”
Wolf stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It is funny, because even you don’t realize it.” He leaned forward, his gaze holding Dex’s. “Others may not see it, but I do. There’s darkness lurking behind those pale blue eyes. You never did quite recover from your parents’ murder.”
Dex opened his mouth to reply when the words sank in. His gut twisted. No. Absolutely not. “My parents weren’t murdered. They were killed in a shoot-out. Wrong place, wrong time.”
Wolf moved his chair closer to Dex and sat. “You didn’t believe it then, and you don’t believe it now. It may be what you were told, what you wanted to believe, but deep down inside, you know the truth you buried long ago.”
“What do you know about my parents?” Why was he asking? It wasn’t as if he could trust Wolf. For all he knew the guy was making shit up to rattle him, to make him talk.
“Do forgive me. I seem to have deviated from my intended path.” Wolf let out a pleasant laugh, as if he were conversing with a friend. “You’re very easy to talk to. Let’s try a different approach. Gina Daley was killed for interfering in business that was no concern of hers. Sadly, she dragged your father into it. I want the file she had in her possession the night she was killed.”
Dex closed his eyes, suddenly nauseated. He needed the room to stop spinning and his stomach to stop turning over. Wolf was right. Deep down, he’d always known, but this… this was just too much. All these years he’d tried denying the fact there might be more to his parents’ deaths than mere coincidence, but he’d never delved deeper. He’d been scared to. Afraid of what he’d find. To him, his parents had been two regular people who’d loved him very much and who’d been taken from him far too early in life. He’d wanted to preserve their memory. Dex opened his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no running from it now. He needed answers.
“It’s been almost thirty years. Why are you looking for this file now?”
“That information is inconsequential. I would very much like that file.”
“If there is a file, I don’t know where it is,” Dex replied truthfully. “This is the first I’m hearing about it. If you’ve been watching me, studying me, you’d know that.”
Wolf stood and removed his suit jacket in no particular hurry. He took hold of his chair, placed it to one side, and draped his jacket across the backrest. Dex observed him, the way he moved, how he smiled warmly as he removed the cuff links from his sleeve cuffs. Once he’d slipped the cuff links into his jacket pocket, he rolled up his sleeves. Not in a half-assed way either. He wasn’t in any kind of rush. The fabric was folded meticulously. First one sleeve, then the other. From his pants pocket he pulled out a pair of black gloves and slipped them on.
“I hear you have quite the pain threshold.”
Dex sat up straight and rolled his shoulders. His heart raced, and his muscles tensed. He subtly closed his hands into fists to keep Wolf from seeing them shake. When he spoke, he made certain his tone gave away nothing of the fear shooting through him. “Moving on to the kinky stuff already. That’s not really my scene, but whatever floats your boat.”
With a chuckle, Wolf stepped in between Dex’s knees. He took hold of Dex’s chin, his smile turning apologetic. “Forgive me, but I’m going to have to bruise this pretty face of yours. I hoped to avoid it, but you’ve left me no choice. It’s nothing personal.”
Dex shrugged. He wouldn’t give Wolf the satisfaction of knowing he was scared. No point in him losing his shit. Wolf wasn’t like anyone he’d faced before. He was a professional given a job to do, a job he took pride in. The steel of his gray eyes told Dex all he needed to know. There would be no mercy coming from Wolf. Any and all pain inflicted on Dex was of his own making for not cooperating.
“Just part of the job description. I get it.”
“Thank you for being so understanding.” Wolf ran his thumb over Dex’s bottom lip. “I like you, Dex. In fact, I like you so much I’m going to start small.”
“That’s really kind of you.” He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Wolf’s.
“I know,” Wolf replied sincerely. “Now brace yourself.”
Dex nodded. He clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply through his nose, his fists balled so tight his knuckles were white. Think of home.
The first blow had him seeing stars. For all of Mr. Wolf’s sophisticated charms, he was a Therian, and one skilled in the art of causing pain. That much was evident right away. Wolf also managed to inflict damage without incapacitating. After all, if he wanted information out of his prisoner, a method of communication was key. The most intriguing part was how Wolf managed to beat the shit out of Dex while keeping himself looking impeccable. Even with Dex’s blood splattered over his white shirt, he looked elegant. Dex would have commended him if he could talk.
The worst of it wasn’t the blows to the face, the split lip and brow, the throbbing, or even the taste of his own blood inside his mouth as well as the blood trickling down from his nose. It was the fiery concoction that must have been brewed with the Devil’s piss because it burned like a son of a bitch when Wolf applied it to one of Dex’s open wounds. It scorched his flesh, and when Wolf applied it to Dex’s brow, he cried out. Tears pooled in his eyes from the sting, but he quickly blinked them away and gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain. His heart was pounding, and he jerked in his seat, sucking in gulps of air. Jesus, it burned.
“I know,” Wolf cooed. “I’m so sorry.”
He pressed his lips to Dex’s. It was brief but gentle, startling Dex. He tugged at his arm, instinct propelling him to punch Wolf in the face, but all that did was send more pain up his arm.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” Wolf wiped Dex’s blood from his lips with his thumb before he ran a hand over Dex’s head, soothing him. “Please. You can make this stop. Just tell me what I want to know.” He crouched down between Dex’s knees and slid his hands to Dex’s thighs, then to his hips. Wolf’s dark brows were drawn together, his lips pulled down in a frown. “I’m really not enjoying this. You’re a good man, Dex. I don’t like hurting good men.”
“You could stop,” Dex said with a shaky laugh that verged on a sob, but he pushed past it. His vision was growing blurry again, and he shut his eyes tight. For weeks his eyes had been bugging him, itching, blurring, and until recently it had been a minor inconvenience. He’d put it down to fatigue, but Sloane had been worried, so Dex promised he’d make an appointment with the eye doctor. He wished he’d done it sooner. Now was not the time for his vision to be giving him problems.
“I wish I could, but I have a job to do, and once I give my word, I follow through. Dex, please. Help me help you.”
Dex gazed down at Wolf, his voice a low growl. “You know what? Fuck you. At this point, even if I had the goddamn thing, I wouldn’t give it to you.”
“Such language.” Wolf tsked.
Dex let out a laugh. “Well, get used to it, Buttercup, because it just gets prettier from here on out.”
“I was afraid it would come to this.” Wolf stood and leaned in, pressing his cheek to Dex’s as he slipped one hand around the back of his head. He murmured softly as he stroked Dex’s hair. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is the file Gina Daley had in her possession the day she died?”
When Dex didn’t reply, he received a punch to the kidney. Fuck. At this rate he’d be pissing blood for a week. If he survived.
“All right.” Wolf straightened and released a sigh. “Just remember, you brought this on yourself.” He slipped into the shadows and returned with a long, narrow wrap of dark leather. After moving his chair closer to Dex, he pulled the ties loose and unrolled the leather on the chair’s seat. Dex’s jaw muscles tightened at the neat row of long, fine needles. They looked like the kind acupuncturists used. Dex twisted his wrists, the sweat on his skin only allowing for minimal movement, not enough for him to free himself.
Gently, Wolf took hold of Dex’s left hand and bent to give his fingers a kiss before taking hold of his middle finger. Dex’s body betrayed him, trembling under Wolf’s touch in anticipation of the pain. Nothing he’d experienced before could prepare him. All he could do was endure. Pray he could somehow find a way to get out of this. To survive. Wolf slipped one of the needles out, crouched down in front of Dex, and placed the tip under Dex’s fingernail. Wolf’s steel-gray eyes met Dex’s. “This is going to hurt a great deal. It’s all right to scream. Again, you’ve left me no choice.”
Dex’s eyes watered as Wolf began to push the needle in. His heartbeat skyrocketed, and he jerked against the restraints. Oh God…. He’d endured a hell of a lot in his life, in his career at the HPF and then the THIRDS, but never anything like this. He focused on his breathing, on finding a safe place inside his head. Sloane….
The needle plunged deeper, and Dex jolted, a strangled cry torn from his lips. He pushed against the floor with his feet, jerked his arms, and twisted his body in an attempt to get away from the agonizing pain, but nothing he did would ease his suffering.
“This is just the beginning, Dex,” Wolf assured him softly. “I will break you.”
“Fuck you,” Dex spat. Sweat beaded his brow, and his fingers shook. It was only going to get worse. With a sigh, Wolf moved on to the next finger, and Dex closed his eyes, his muscles straining and sweat dripping down the side of his face as the second needle was pushed in under his fingernail. Sometime between the third and fourth needle, everything went black.
“Stop! Stop, I can’t take anymore!”
Tears ran down Dex’s cheeks. His face hurt from laughing so hard.
“You give up?”
Sloane’s smile brought little creases to the corners of his amber eyes, making Dex’s heart skip a beat. He was so damned beautiful. New silver strands had appeared in his beard and at his temples, adding to his sex appeal. Sloane was one of those guys who grew even more gorgeous with age, and Dex’s heart swelled at the thought of growing old with the man he loved.
Those amber eyes had been filled with so much pain not long ago, and now they lit up with affection and laughter. With every passing day, despite the darkness they sometimes encountered on the job, Dex witnessed Sloane embrace the growing lightheartedness within him. It was their day off, and they’d been too tired to go out, so they decided to lounge around the house reading, watching TV, eating, and cuddling. In the afternoon they’d made love, then took a nap. Dex had never been happier.
“I give up,” Dex said with a husky laugh, drawing his knees up and pressing them to Sloane’s hips. “I’m tickled out. I’ll eat the rabbit food.”
Sloane planted his elbows on either side of Dex’s head, his eyes bright with laughter. “Am I going to have to tackle you every time I ask you to try a new vegetable dish?”
“If I’m going to start gnawing on bark, I should get something out of it.”
Sloane laughed. “You are getting something out of it. Good health.”
“But why does healthy food have to taste like boiled grass?”
“Hey, my veggie dishes do not taste like boiled grass.” Sloane’s expression softened, he stroked Dex’s hair. “Do you know why I’m always trying to get you to eat healthy?”
“Because eventually I have to be a grown-up and realize gummy bears are not one of the four basic food groups? Even though they should be. I mean, some are green, right? Like vegetables.”
“That’s not why.” Sloane lowered himself onto Dex, mindful of his weight. He held Dex close and planted a tender kiss on his brow. “Because I want you to live a long life. I want to have you with me as long as possible.”
Dex blinked up at him, surprised by Sloane’s heartfelt confession. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Sloane kissed Dex’s lips, a soft, lazy kiss that had Dex letting out a sigh. He was so madly in love with this man.
“Are you trying to guilt me into eating healthier?” Dex teased, nuzzling Sloane’s neck.
Sloane’s rumble of a chuckle sent a delicious shiver through Dex. “Maybe a little.”
“You’re evil.”
“I know.” Sloane nibbled on Dex’s earlobe before whispering in his ear. “Time to wake up, babe.”
“What?”
“Wake up, Dex.”
Dex snapped his eyes open, and his body shrieked with pain. A jolt went through him, and he cried out. His cheeks were wet from tears, his fingertips bloodied and throbbing, his hands shaking. His body was like one giant nerve ending, exposed and in agony. He started to shiver horribly. He was cold, his skin crawled, and sweat dripped down his face. Inside his blood boiled, and he was having trouble breathing. Swallowing past the bile in his throat, he glanced down at the five needles sticking out from under his fingernails on his left hand. His right hand had another two. Oh God, why the hell had he looked?
“Were you dreaming of him?” Wolf asked serenely as he began to slowly remove the needles one by one.
Jesus, what now? Please don’t let me throw up. Please. Wolf sat in the chair again, the wrap of needles now on the floor by his pristinely shined shoes.
“It sounded like a good dream. Your man’s quite something, isn’t he? Despite his time in the First Gen Research Facility, he’s managed to lead a relatively normal life. Friends, love, a successful career? Not everyone who survived was so lucky. Granted, he wasn’t able to leave the demons behind, but it would seem he’s learned how to cope with the darkness inside of him. How are the nightmares, by the way? Better? I think they’re better now that he has you at his side.” Wolf’s smile faded, his expression becoming troubled. “He’s lived through so much pain. I hate to think what would become of him if you were torn from his life.”
Dex didn’t reply. He was pretty sure Wolf could see the loathing in his eyes.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Wolf said with a sigh. “What kind of person feels nothing when bringing another so much pain?” He dropped the last needle onto the floor by his chair.
What time was it? Better yet, what day was it? How long had they been at this? Dex had lost track of how many times he’d passed out. Wolf liked to change things up. He’d alternate between the needles to his fingernails and the ones to various pressure points around his body, to beating the shit out of him one vital organ at a time. His body was bruised inside and out, his skin was caked in blood, and his left eye was all but swollen shut. Dex groaned, feeling his empty stomach lurching. He reeked of sweat, blood, and bodily fluids he couldn’t give a second thought to or he’d retch. Fuck, was Wolf still talking?
“I feel no remorse, take no pleasure in what I do. Breaking you is akin to picking up a gallon of milk at the grocery store or doing my laundry.” Wolf shrugged. “It’s a talent I suppose. Perhaps a rather unorthodox one, but a talent nonetheless.”
“Well, that’s nice,” Dex muttered, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. It was easier to give in to the darkness. It didn’t hurt there, and he could dream about being in Sloane’s arms. He tugged at his wrists and his ankles. Nothing. Maybe if he took a short nap, tried to regain his strength….
“I’m sorry, Dex, but I’m going to need you to stay awake a little longer.” Wolf stood and reached into his jacket pocket—Mary Poppins’s pocket apparently—and pulled out a syringe with a clear liquid.
Fuck me, seriously?
Dex wavered on the edge of the abyss, slightly aware of his head being gently tilted to the side, his hair stroked absently before he felt the tiniest prick to his neck. One minute he was ready to surrender to the encroaching blackness, and the next he feared his heart would explode. He gasped for air and twisted in his seat, his muscles straining as he pulled. Tears welled in his swollen eyes as his senses sharpened. Every dull ache and throb flared into a shrilling agony. His eyesight sharpened, and his breath came out in pants.
“Fuck!” Dex blinked a few times before shutting his eyes tight. Everything was so bright. Even the shadows seemed to fade. “What did you give me?”
“Just a little concoction of mine. Not at all dissimilar to Therian epinephrine. The dose was lower, of course. I don’t want your Human heart to give out on me.”
Dex squinted and tried to open his eyes again. It still hurt, but he was stunned that he could see all the way across the room to the closed door, as if someone had turned up a dimmer switch. There was a steel table next to the door Dex hadn’t seen before because it had been too dark. On it was a pitcher of water and a stack of plastic cups. Whatever Wolf had given him seemed to clear his vision enough to see past the shadows.
“You continue to surprise me, Dex.” Wolf shook his head. “Would you like some water before we move on?”
Dex nodded. At least Wolf was keeping him hydrated. He placed the plastic cup of cool water to Dex’s lips and helped him drink. When he was done, Wolf smiled at him before returning the cup to the table across the room.
“As much as I’m enjoying your company, Dex, we’re going to have to hurry this along.” Wolf came to stand before him. “Your boyfriend or your brother?”
Dex stared at him. “What?”
Wolf walked over to his chair. “I was hoping you would be like the others, eventually look to save yourself and thereby give me what I want, but I see now you’re every inch the man I believed you to be. You have no trouble sacrificing yourself for your cause.” He removed his gloves before turning them inside out, then tossing them onto the chair. With a sigh, he rolled down his sleeves. “I can’t get through to you like this. The only way to get to you is through someone you love.”
Dex’s heart almost stopped.
Wolf finished with his cuff links, then slipped into his jacket. “I’m going to bring back your boyfriend or your brother, I’ll let you choose which, and then I will take him apart piece by piece until you give me the information I want.”
“I’m telling you the truth! I don’t know what file you’re talking about. There was nothing like that left behind. No letter, note, nothing addressing a file. Please.” Dex struggled against the restraints. The thought of Sloane or Cael in this room terrified him. “I’ll do what you want. Just leave them out of this.”
Wolf walked over and bent forward, his gaze holding Dex’s. “Who’s it going to be? The love of your life or your baby brother?” A thought seemed to strike him, and he snapped his fingers. “I have a better idea. How about I bring them both, and then you can look them in the eye when I make you choose who lives and who dies. Either way, I’ll make them both bleed.”
Rage erupted through Dex like a fiery geyser. He let out a fierce cry and wrenched at the zip ties with all the strength he could summon. They snapped. The ones around his wrists first, then his ankles.
Wolf’s eyes went wide, and Dex thrust his head forward, head-butting Wolf and sending him stumbling back. He rubbed his forehead before staring at Dex.
“How did you do that?”
“Guess you don’t know everything,” Dex growled, lunging at Wolf.
The two of them hit the floor, thrashing and trying to do as much damage to the other as possible. Wolf was undoubtedly cursing his luck right now. If he hadn’t pumped Dex with that Therian shit, Dex wouldn’t have had the strength to stand much less fight.
Wolf was a trained professional and a Therian, but Dex wasn’t without skill. Thanks to Sparks, months of special training, of getting his ass handed to him by TIN specialists, of pushing himself beyond his limits, was finally paying off. He was never more grateful to Sparks for kicking his ass like she had than he was at this moment.
They got to their feet and circled each other. How many people had Wolf tortured and killed? And who the hell did the guy work for? Whoever he was, Dex couldn’t let him near his family.
“How did you get out of those restraints?” Wolf demanded.
Dex had no idea, but he wasn’t about to let Wolf know that. “Who are you working for?”
Wolf charged him, using his elbows in the hopes of inflicting as much damage as possible, but Dex remembered Sparks’s training. Wolf’s blows were continually blocked, with Dex quickly picking up on the guy’s technique. He matched Wolf’s speed, anticipating where Wolf would hit rather than reacting. It was something Dex discovered he was good at. Sparks had noticed right away, so rather than simply teaching him new techniques, she had him mimic his opponent’s and use what he’d learned against them. Dex threw his hands up, blocking the blow Wolf intended for Dex’s ears. Recovering swiftly, Dex threw an uppercut, catching Wolf under his chin, followed by an onslaught of fierce punches before Wolf could get his bearings.
Dex’s muscles pulled and burned, but his adrenaline had spiked. He was so close to freedom he could taste it, so he reached even deeper, putting all his strength behind every blow, making sure not to get too cocky. Wolf let out a fierce growl and lashed out, snatching a hold of Dex’s jacket. Dex went with the momentum, spinning and pulling his arms out of the sleeves. With a frustrated grunt, Wolf chucked the jacket to one side and lunged at Dex, who spun out of the way. If Wolf got his hands on Dex, it’d be over. He couldn’t allow that. Sloane…. He had to get back to Sloane.
“You won’t make it out of here,” Wolf warned, his breath unsteady.
Dex met Wolf’s eyes and grinned. “Like how I wouldn’t be getting out of that chair? How’d that work out for you?”
Wolf smoothed back his hair, and Dex readied himself. The guy was rethinking his strategy. Dex gingerly inched away from the door, his eyes locked on Wolf. He didn’t have to wait long. Wolf’s gray eyes turned hard, empty, and he charged Dex, fangs elongated as he attacked, just as Dex had hoped.
Dex had maneuvered Wolf exactly where he wanted him. Before Wolf could grab him, Dex snatched hold of Wolf’s chair, swung it around, and slammed the steel piece of furniture into Wolf. The guy hit the floor hard, his head banging against the concrete. He didn’t stir. Dex quickly rummaged through Wolf’s pockets. There was nothing.
Leaving the guy on the floor, Dex ran farther into the shadows, and he immediately spotted the faint light coming in from under the door. He grabbed the handle and carefully cracked it open. There was no one on the other side. Slipping out, he closed the door behind him. More darkness and more concrete walls. Where the hell was he? Why was it so damned dark?
It was time to get the hell out of here. His body protested every movement, his head was killing him, but he got moving, sucking in a sharp breath and holding on to his side in a feeble attempt to keep some of the pain at bay. His ribs were bruised, and his lungs burned as his breath quickened. He wouldn’t be able to stay on his feet much longer, but the thought he might blow his only chance at getting out of here, at getting back to Sloane, had him pushing forward.
The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, and he stilled when he caught a whiff of something familiar. It was faint, but he could smell it. Something mixed with licorice. Dex hated licorice. One too many shots of Sambuca in college. Ahead of him in the shadows, he spotted movement. Shit. Had he really thought he could just walk out of here? Several pairs of glowing eyes grew nearer, and Dex stopped, leaning against the wall for support as the figures stalked forward, their shapes soon becoming visible. Three Therians. Dex grinned. One of them had a tranq gun holstered to his belt.
Dex pushed away from the wall and put his hands up in front of him. “I don’t want any trouble, fellas.” He turned his gaze on the lion Therian with the tranq gun and motioned to his face.
“You know, I got a friend with that same scowl. Is that, like, a lion Therian thing, or are you both members of the same Scowler’s Association? No? Okay.”
The guy was short-tempered. Not surprising. The lion Therian lunged at him, and Dex dropped to his knees, twisting his body despite the cry from his muscles. He swiped the guy’s tranq gun, then shot him in the back and sent him stumbling forward. Not skipping a beat, Dex jumped to his feet and fired at the two Therians charging him. One managed to grab him by the neck, lifting him off his feet. Dex grabbed the guy’s wrist while shooting him a second and third time in the chest. Another gasp for air later, Dex was released. He dropped to the floor and coughed before staggering forward. A red light flared to life up on the ceiling, and Dex cursed under his breath. The jig was up.
“Time to get out of Dodge,” Dex grunted, willing his feet to move faster. It was like running through a fog. His vision blurred, and he alternated between squinting and shutting his eyes tight in an attempt to clear them. He took a wrong turn and ended up in a dead end.
“Fuck.” He doubled back quickly, the tranq gun held close. Rounding a corner, he was met with two more Therian goons. He fired, taking one down, and then he was out of darts. Fucking fuck fuck! Tossing the gun to one side, he charged the leopard Therian. He had no idea what the hell he thought would happen, but when he tackled the guy and sent him slamming into the wall behind him, Dex was just as surprised as his foe. Swiftly recovering, Dex pulled back a fist and punched the guy across the head. The guy crumpled to the floor, out cold.
“Holy shit.” Had Wolf given him fucking steroids or something? Whatever it was, Dex was glad for it, though he feared what the repercussions would be. Pushing that aside for now, Dex hurried down the corridors. Up ahead he saw the Exit sign. He could have cried he was so happy. Not waiting for any more goons to show up, he pushed through the door and ran down the dark corridor, not questioning how it was he could see through the darkness. He rushed up the stairs, ignoring his burning lungs.
Bursting out into the night air would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t kept pushing. He had to get away from this place. Phone. He needed a phone. Trees surrounded him on all sides, and he glanced back to find the door he’d come from was set in a brick wall hidden by grime, moss, shrubbery, and foliage. In the distance he heard the faint sounds of city traffic. Was he still in the city? He was certainly in a city. As he moved quickly through the trees, he spotted a small road with a narrow sidewalk at the bottom of an incline and beyond that, homes. He’d never make it to any of those houses. Voices carried through the air, and Dex hurried down the incline to the sidewalk, trying his best not to fall, because if he did, he wouldn’t be getting back up.
Hunching himself over, he stumbled by the two Humans walking by, bumping into one of them.
“Watch it, asshole,” one guy grumbled as he kept moving. Yep, definitely still in New York City.
“Sorry, man.” Dex staggered toward the small hill he came from and climbed back up, his legs growing shaky. Normally the darkness would make him nervous, but now it was his sanctuary. There was plenty of light for him to see movement, in case someone tried to get the drop on him. The expanse of trees stretched on for miles, and he kept going as long as he could. When his knees gave out from under him, he dragged himself over to a tree and sat up against it. He pulled out the phone he’d swiped from the guy he’d bumped into. After one ring, Sloane picked up.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me,” Dex choked out, tears filling his eyes. It was so damned good to hear Sloane’s voice.
“Oh thank God. Dex, where are you?”
“I… I have no idea. There’s lots of trees. I don’t see any signs. There was a road, but I don’t know what it was. Can you get Cael to find my location using the phone’s GPS?”
There was some faint murmuring before Sloane’s voice returned.
“He’s on it. Are you okay? Talk to me. What happened?”
“It’s a really, really long story. I just… I need you.” He let his head fall back, and a tremor went through him. His need for the man he loved was crushing, and he blinked back his tears.
“I’m on my way, sweetheart. Are you somewhere safe?”
“Home was safe.”
There was a long pause. “We’ll sort that out. Right now, let’s get you to me, okay? I’m your home.”
Dex smiled despite his split lip. That’s right. Sloane was home. It didn’t matter where they were. As long as Sloane was with him, he was home. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that right now.”
“We have your location. I’ll be there soon. Stay on the line with me.”
“I’m tired.”
“Stay awake, sweetheart. Please.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m kinda in bad shape here.” His adrenaline was crashing and with that his strength, causing his whole body to shake violently. He’d be lucky if he didn’t go into shock. It was so cold all of a sudden.
“Sing with me.”
“What?”
“Come on. Listen.”
Sloane turned up the radio, and Dex smiled at the familiar sounds of strumming guitar followed by clapping. It was the Romantics’ “What I Like About You.” Sloane sang and urged Dex to sing with him. Dex did his best to keep up with the lyrics. He loved this song. He’d danced to it around the kitchen last week while making dinner. Sloane had even joined in after Dex grabbed him and begged him to dance with him. It was the most fun Dex had ever had making baked potatoes.
“Keep singing, sweetheart,” Sloane pleaded.
Dex tried. His voice was rough, his words barely audible, but he tried to keep from slipping into the darkness threatening to drag him under. He wanted to be awake for Sloane, wanted to see his beautiful smile and glowing amber eyes. The light around him seemed to dim, and he couldn’t tell if it was the last of whatever Wolf had given him leaving his system or if he was beginning to lose consciousness. It was all so quiet, or at least it appeared that way, as if time had stilled. His sharpened senses dulled, and he tried to push himself up, but his body refused to cooperate. He had no idea how much time had passed or at what point the phone had slipped from his blood-caked fingers.
“Dex! Dex, where are you?”
“Sloane,” Dex croaked.
Was Sloane really there, or had he simply heard what he was desperate to hear? One moment there was quiet, nothing but shadows, and the next dozens of lights burst through the trees. Sloane emerged alongside three figures in black suits, and when he spotted Dex, he sped over. He dropped to his knees and cradled Dex in his arms. Dex was aware of more people calling his name. Cael? Ash? Thank God they were safe.
“Dex, I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.” Sloane gently hugged him close, one hand around Dex’s back, the other cradling Dex’s head to him, enveloping Dex in warmth. Sloane was always so warm.
“I stayed awake,” Dex murmured, nuzzling his face against Sloane’s shirt, inhaling his scent. He smelled so good.
“You did good, babe. It’s okay.”
Dex nodded, or at least he thought he did. There was chaos around him, quiet chaos. He could hear the many whispers, the orders given to span out and search. All Dex cared about was that the man he loved had come for him and he was once again in Sloane’s arms. Now safe, the darkness came for him.
SOUND EXPLODED in Dex’s ears. His head throbbed, and his face hurt. He tasted blood, and his body didn’t feel like his own as he struggled through the lethargy. His limbs felt heavy, like he was swimming in molasses. With a groan, he forced his eyes open. It was dark save for the halo of light floating somewhere above his head. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was Sloane’s strong arms around him, wrapping him up in warmth, holding him close. Sloane had nuzzled his face in Dex’s hair, then kissed him good night, followed by a soft “I love you.”
Sloane….
Dex bolted upright, a gasp caught in his throat as he surfaced through the haze. His eyes widened, and his heart beat furiously as he realized his wrists and ankles were zip-tied to a chair.
“What the hell is this?” He looked up and reeled from the stabbing white light. It seared his vision, and he shut his eyes tight for several seconds. A halo was all he could see before he was finally able to focus on the stretch of nothingness around him. Shadows surrounded him on all sides, the only light coming from the lamp hanging over his head. “Hello?” It struck him then.
They’d taken him from his home.
Oh God, where was Sloane? His blood ran cold, and he jerked against the restraints. “Somebody answer me!”
“You’re awake. Good.”
Dex froze. He peered into the shadows and could just about make out an outline, along with the glow of eyes. A Therian.
“Who are you? What is this?” Dex demanded, his voice hoarse from his dry throat. It was like his mouth was full of cotton. Most likely a result from whatever they’d given him to knock him out. He did his best to ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Someone had broken into his house and taken him from his boyfriend’s arms. He had no idea where Sloane was or the condition he was in. Was he hurt… or worse? Please let him be okay.
“I’ll be the one asking the questions here, Agent Daley.”
“Where’s Sloane?”
A tall wolf Therian in an expensive gray suit emerged from the shadows. “Looking for you, I imagine. I don’t really care. My interest lies with you, not Sloane Brodie.”
Dex had expected a thug or a raging psychopath. The Therian before him didn’t appear to be either, but appearances could be deceiving. Refined, smooth, chiseled jaw, and handsome, with rich black hair neatly styled, he looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties. The Therian cocked his head to one side, his sharp gray eyes studying Dex. He seemed to come to some kind of conclusion and pulled a chair out from the darkness to place in front of Dex.
Dex studied his adversary, noting how nonchalantly he unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket and took a seat. He crossed one leg over the other and placed his laced fingers over one knee, as if he were about to have an informal business chat.
“Where is it?” he asked smoothly.
“Why do you spooks always start with such cryptic questions?” Dex frowned down at himself. “Why am I in a suit?” He was pretty sure he’d gone to bed in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. The suit was tailored to fit. Everything from the black dress pants to the pristine white button-down shirt to the black jacket fit like a glove. Even his shoes hugged his feet comfortably. “How do you know my shoe size?”
“I know everything about you.”
Dex glanced around the room. There were no cameras, windows, nothing but the bare concrete floor and walls. “Why?”
“Where is the file?”
“Why the tie?” This was bizarre. Someone had painstakingly fixed a tie around his neck while he’d been unconscious. Who kidnapped people and dressed them up in fancy clothes?
“Answer the question.”
“How about we start small,” Dex offered. “What do I call you?” He needed to figure a way out of this. There had to be a door somewhere behind the Therian. The guy hadn’t just materialized out of thin air. Of course, first Dex would have to get himself out of the chair. It was steel and bolted to the floor.
“Don’t act cute with me, Agent Daley.” The wolf Therian smiled pleasantly. “And you can call me Mr. Wolf.”
Mr. Wolf. Right. “Now who’s being cute?”
Wolf chuckled. “I do appreciate a man with a good sense of humor. You’re very charming.” He looked Dex over and smiled warmly. “You’re taller than I imagined, and your photo hardly does you justice. You’re far more handsome in person.” He motioned to his own eyes. “Beautiful color. Absolutely stunning.”
Dex leaned forward, his lips curling up wickedly. “You trying to get information out of me or date me?”
Wolf chuckled. “I can see you’re going to be a handful. All right, Agent Daley—May I call you Dex? Agent seems so formal.”
“Sure.”
“Dex, your little ‘I’m just a ditzy blond’ act isn’t going to fly with me. I know perfectly well who you are and what you’re capable of.”
Dex sat back with a smile. “Do you now? FYI, I’m more of a dirty blond.”
Wolf arched an eyebrow at him. The man wasn’t quite sure what to make of Dex. Despite Wolf’s calm and nonthreatening demeanor, something in his eyes warned Dex to tread lightly.
Wolf cleared his throat before continuing. “Dexter Justice Daley, born August 18, 1980. Only child to Gina and John Daley. Adopted by Anthony Maddock. Adopted brother, Cael Maddock. You were an HPF officer before becoming a detective like your father before you. Then you testified against your partner for shooting an unarmed Therian youth in the back. Your boyfriend at the time, Louis Huerta, walked out on you.
“You were hired by the THIRDS and appointed a Defense agent for Unit Alpha’s Destructive Delta. Your Team Leader is Sloane Brodie, a First Gen jaguar Therian who spent the majority of his youth in the First Gen Research Facility being prodded and poked like a lab rat. You’ve been together for a year and roughly two and a half months—he had a few commitment issues to work out. This month he moved in with you. He thinks you need to eat healthier, and he’s correct. You consume copious amounts of caffeine, sugar, and red meat, have a somewhat unusual obsession with the eighties, and enjoy karaoke. Have I left anything out?”
Who was this guy, and how did he know so much? Dex smiled widely. “Yeah, I love dancing, sadly can’t hold my liquor, and give great head.”
Wolf’s eyebrows shot up before his expression returned to its previous impassive state. He shifted in his chair, and Dex held back a grin. He could use this. Dex held Wolf’s gaze.
“Did you know I can make my boyfriend purr in Human form? And I don’t mean figuratively. I mean, I can literally make him purr.”
Wolf peered at him before brushing some nonexistent lint from his suit jacket. “Not possible.”
“Oh, but it is,” Dex replied, his voice low and husky. “I’m good with my mouth.”
Wolf smoothed down his tie before meeting Dex’s gaze. He carried on as if he hadn’t heard Dex. “I know you would risk everything for your loved ones. Your career, your heart, your life. You have a fierce sense of justice. I know at this very moment you’re considering your options and how you can get out of that chair. Those are Therian-strength zip ties, Dex. You won’t be going anywhere, and unlike most, I won’t underestimate you. You’re quite good at discovering your opponent’s vulnerabilities. Fortunately for me, I have none. I know you play the fool, act the class clown, hiding who you really are.”
Dex cocked his head to one side and smiled. “And who’s that?”
“A very dangerous man.”
Here he was tied to a chair, and he was dangerous? “That’s funny.”
Wolf stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It is funny, because even you don’t realize it.” He leaned forward, his gaze holding Dex’s. “Others may not see it, but I do. There’s darkness lurking behind those pale blue eyes. You never did quite recover from your parents’ murder.”
Dex opened his mouth to reply when the words sank in. His gut twisted. No. Absolutely not. “My parents weren’t murdered. They were killed in a shoot-out. Wrong place, wrong time.”
Wolf moved his chair closer to Dex and sat. “You didn’t believe it then, and you don’t believe it now. It may be what you were told, what you wanted to believe, but deep down inside, you know the truth you buried long ago.”
“What do you know about my parents?” Why was he asking? It wasn’t as if he could trust Wolf. For all he knew the guy was making shit up to rattle him, to make him talk.
“Do forgive me. I seem to have deviated from my intended path.” Wolf let out a pleasant laugh, as if he were conversing with a friend. “You’re very easy to talk to. Let’s try a different approach. Gina Daley was killed for interfering in business that was no concern of hers. Sadly, she dragged your father into it. I want the file she had in her possession the night she was killed.”
Dex closed his eyes, suddenly nauseated. He needed the room to stop spinning and his stomach to stop turning over. Wolf was right. Deep down, he’d always known, but this… this was just too much. All these years he’d tried denying the fact there might be more to his parents’ deaths than mere coincidence, but he’d never delved deeper. He’d been scared to. Afraid of what he’d find. To him, his parents had been two regular people who’d loved him very much and who’d been taken from him far too early in life. He’d wanted to preserve their memory. Dex opened his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no running from it now. He needed answers.
“It’s been almost thirty years. Why are you looking for this file now?”
“That information is inconsequential. I would very much like that file.”
“If there is a file, I don’t know where it is,” Dex replied truthfully. “This is the first I’m hearing about it. If you’ve been watching me, studying me, you’d know that.”
Wolf stood and removed his suit jacket in no particular hurry. He took hold of his chair, placed it to one side, and draped his jacket across the backrest. Dex observed him, the way he moved, how he smiled warmly as he removed the cuff links from his sleeve cuffs. Once he’d slipped the cuff links into his jacket pocket, he rolled up his sleeves. Not in a half-assed way either. He wasn’t in any kind of rush. The fabric was folded meticulously. First one sleeve, then the other. From his pants pocket he pulled out a pair of black gloves and slipped them on.
“I hear you have quite the pain threshold.”
Dex sat up straight and rolled his shoulders. His heart raced, and his muscles tensed. He subtly closed his hands into fists to keep Wolf from seeing them shake. When he spoke, he made certain his tone gave away nothing of the fear shooting through him. “Moving on to the kinky stuff already. That’s not really my scene, but whatever floats your boat.”
With a chuckle, Wolf stepped in between Dex’s knees. He took hold of Dex’s chin, his smile turning apologetic. “Forgive me, but I’m going to have to bruise this pretty face of yours. I hoped to avoid it, but you’ve left me no choice. It’s nothing personal.”
Dex shrugged. He wouldn’t give Wolf the satisfaction of knowing he was scared. No point in him losing his shit. Wolf wasn’t like anyone he’d faced before. He was a professional given a job to do, a job he took pride in. The steel of his gray eyes told Dex all he needed to know. There would be no mercy coming from Wolf. Any and all pain inflicted on Dex was of his own making for not cooperating.
“Just part of the job description. I get it.”
“Thank you for being so understanding.” Wolf ran his thumb over Dex’s bottom lip. “I like you, Dex. In fact, I like you so much I’m going to start small.”
“That’s really kind of you.” He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Wolf’s.
“I know,” Wolf replied sincerely. “Now brace yourself.”
Dex nodded. He clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply through his nose, his fists balled so tight his knuckles were white. Think of home.
The first blow had him seeing stars. For all of Mr. Wolf’s sophisticated charms, he was a Therian, and one skilled in the art of causing pain. That much was evident right away. Wolf also managed to inflict damage without incapacitating. After all, if he wanted information out of his prisoner, a method of communication was key. The most intriguing part was how Wolf managed to beat the shit out of Dex while keeping himself looking impeccable. Even with Dex’s blood splattered over his white shirt, he looked elegant. Dex would have commended him if he could talk.
The worst of it wasn’t the blows to the face, the split lip and brow, the throbbing, or even the taste of his own blood inside his mouth as well as the blood trickling down from his nose. It was the fiery concoction that must have been brewed with the Devil’s piss because it burned like a son of a bitch when Wolf applied it to one of Dex’s open wounds. It scorched his flesh, and when Wolf applied it to Dex’s brow, he cried out. Tears pooled in his eyes from the sting, but he quickly blinked them away and gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain. His heart was pounding, and he jerked in his seat, sucking in gulps of air. Jesus, it burned.
“I know,” Wolf cooed. “I’m so sorry.”
He pressed his lips to Dex’s. It was brief but gentle, startling Dex. He tugged at his arm, instinct propelling him to punch Wolf in the face, but all that did was send more pain up his arm.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” Wolf wiped Dex’s blood from his lips with his thumb before he ran a hand over Dex’s head, soothing him. “Please. You can make this stop. Just tell me what I want to know.” He crouched down between Dex’s knees and slid his hands to Dex’s thighs, then to his hips. Wolf’s dark brows were drawn together, his lips pulled down in a frown. “I’m really not enjoying this. You’re a good man, Dex. I don’t like hurting good men.”
“You could stop,” Dex said with a shaky laugh that verged on a sob, but he pushed past it. His vision was growing blurry again, and he shut his eyes tight. For weeks his eyes had been bugging him, itching, blurring, and until recently it had been a minor inconvenience. He’d put it down to fatigue, but Sloane had been worried, so Dex promised he’d make an appointment with the eye doctor. He wished he’d done it sooner. Now was not the time for his vision to be giving him problems.
“I wish I could, but I have a job to do, and once I give my word, I follow through. Dex, please. Help me help you.”
Dex gazed down at Wolf, his voice a low growl. “You know what? Fuck you. At this point, even if I had the goddamn thing, I wouldn’t give it to you.”
“Such language.” Wolf tsked.
Dex let out a laugh. “Well, get used to it, Buttercup, because it just gets prettier from here on out.”
“I was afraid it would come to this.” Wolf stood and leaned in, pressing his cheek to Dex’s as he slipped one hand around the back of his head. He murmured softly as he stroked Dex’s hair. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is the file Gina Daley had in her possession the day she died?”
When Dex didn’t reply, he received a punch to the kidney. Fuck. At this rate he’d be pissing blood for a week. If he survived.
“All right.” Wolf straightened and released a sigh. “Just remember, you brought this on yourself.” He slipped into the shadows and returned with a long, narrow wrap of dark leather. After moving his chair closer to Dex, he pulled the ties loose and unrolled the leather on the chair’s seat. Dex’s jaw muscles tightened at the neat row of long, fine needles. They looked like the kind acupuncturists used. Dex twisted his wrists, the sweat on his skin only allowing for minimal movement, not enough for him to free himself.
Gently, Wolf took hold of Dex’s left hand and bent to give his fingers a kiss before taking hold of his middle finger. Dex’s body betrayed him, trembling under Wolf’s touch in anticipation of the pain. Nothing he’d experienced before could prepare him. All he could do was endure. Pray he could somehow find a way to get out of this. To survive. Wolf slipped one of the needles out, crouched down in front of Dex, and placed the tip under Dex’s fingernail. Wolf’s steel-gray eyes met Dex’s. “This is going to hurt a great deal. It’s all right to scream. Again, you’ve left me no choice.”
Dex’s eyes watered as Wolf began to push the needle in. His heartbeat skyrocketed, and he jerked against the restraints. Oh God…. He’d endured a hell of a lot in his life, in his career at the HPF and then the THIRDS, but never anything like this. He focused on his breathing, on finding a safe place inside his head. Sloane….
The needle plunged deeper, and Dex jolted, a strangled cry torn from his lips. He pushed against the floor with his feet, jerked his arms, and twisted his body in an attempt to get away from the agonizing pain, but nothing he did would ease his suffering.
“This is just the beginning, Dex,” Wolf assured him softly. “I will break you.”
“Fuck you,” Dex spat. Sweat beaded his brow, and his fingers shook. It was only going to get worse. With a sigh, Wolf moved on to the next finger, and Dex closed his eyes, his muscles straining and sweat dripping down the side of his face as the second needle was pushed in under his fingernail. Sometime between the third and fourth needle, everything went black.
“Stop! Stop, I can’t take anymore!”
Tears ran down Dex’s cheeks. His face hurt from laughing so hard.
“You give up?”
Sloane’s smile brought little creases to the corners of his amber eyes, making Dex’s heart skip a beat. He was so damned beautiful. New silver strands had appeared in his beard and at his temples, adding to his sex appeal. Sloane was one of those guys who grew even more gorgeous with age, and Dex’s heart swelled at the thought of growing old with the man he loved.
Those amber eyes had been filled with so much pain not long ago, and now they lit up with affection and laughter. With every passing day, despite the darkness they sometimes encountered on the job, Dex witnessed Sloane embrace the growing lightheartedness within him. It was their day off, and they’d been too tired to go out, so they decided to lounge around the house reading, watching TV, eating, and cuddling. In the afternoon they’d made love, then took a nap. Dex had never been happier.
“I give up,” Dex said with a husky laugh, drawing his knees up and pressing them to Sloane’s hips. “I’m tickled out. I’ll eat the rabbit food.”
Sloane planted his elbows on either side of Dex’s head, his eyes bright with laughter. “Am I going to have to tackle you every time I ask you to try a new vegetable dish?”
“If I’m going to start gnawing on bark, I should get something out of it.”
Sloane laughed. “You are getting something out of it. Good health.”
“But why does healthy food have to taste like boiled grass?”
“Hey, my veggie dishes do not taste like boiled grass.” Sloane’s expression softened, he stroked Dex’s hair. “Do you know why I’m always trying to get you to eat healthy?”
“Because eventually I have to be a grown-up and realize gummy bears are not one of the four basic food groups? Even though they should be. I mean, some are green, right? Like vegetables.”
“That’s not why.” Sloane lowered himself onto Dex, mindful of his weight. He held Dex close and planted a tender kiss on his brow. “Because I want you to live a long life. I want to have you with me as long as possible.”
Dex blinked up at him, surprised by Sloane’s heartfelt confession. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Sloane kissed Dex’s lips, a soft, lazy kiss that had Dex letting out a sigh. He was so madly in love with this man.
“Are you trying to guilt me into eating healthier?” Dex teased, nuzzling Sloane’s neck.
Sloane’s rumble of a chuckle sent a delicious shiver through Dex. “Maybe a little.”
“You’re evil.”
“I know.” Sloane nibbled on Dex’s earlobe before whispering in his ear. “Time to wake up, babe.”
“What?”
“Wake up, Dex.”
Dex snapped his eyes open, and his body shrieked with pain. A jolt went through him, and he cried out. His cheeks were wet from tears, his fingertips bloodied and throbbing, his hands shaking. His body was like one giant nerve ending, exposed and in agony. He started to shiver horribly. He was cold, his skin crawled, and sweat dripped down his face. Inside his blood boiled, and he was having trouble breathing. Swallowing past the bile in his throat, he glanced down at the five needles sticking out from under his fingernails on his left hand. His right hand had another two. Oh God, why the hell had he looked?
“Were you dreaming of him?” Wolf asked serenely as he began to slowly remove the needles one by one.
Jesus, what now? Please don’t let me throw up. Please. Wolf sat in the chair again, the wrap of needles now on the floor by his pristinely shined shoes.
“It sounded like a good dream. Your man’s quite something, isn’t he? Despite his time in the First Gen Research Facility, he’s managed to lead a relatively normal life. Friends, love, a successful career? Not everyone who survived was so lucky. Granted, he wasn’t able to leave the demons behind, but it would seem he’s learned how to cope with the darkness inside of him. How are the nightmares, by the way? Better? I think they’re better now that he has you at his side.” Wolf’s smile faded, his expression becoming troubled. “He’s lived through so much pain. I hate to think what would become of him if you were torn from his life.”
Dex didn’t reply. He was pretty sure Wolf could see the loathing in his eyes.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Wolf said with a sigh. “What kind of person feels nothing when bringing another so much pain?” He dropped the last needle onto the floor by his chair.
What time was it? Better yet, what day was it? How long had they been at this? Dex had lost track of how many times he’d passed out. Wolf liked to change things up. He’d alternate between the needles to his fingernails and the ones to various pressure points around his body, to beating the shit out of him one vital organ at a time. His body was bruised inside and out, his skin was caked in blood, and his left eye was all but swollen shut. Dex groaned, feeling his empty stomach lurching. He reeked of sweat, blood, and bodily fluids he couldn’t give a second thought to or he’d retch. Fuck, was Wolf still talking?
“I feel no remorse, take no pleasure in what I do. Breaking you is akin to picking up a gallon of milk at the grocery store or doing my laundry.” Wolf shrugged. “It’s a talent I suppose. Perhaps a rather unorthodox one, but a talent nonetheless.”
“Well, that’s nice,” Dex muttered, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. It was easier to give in to the darkness. It didn’t hurt there, and he could dream about being in Sloane’s arms. He tugged at his wrists and his ankles. Nothing. Maybe if he took a short nap, tried to regain his strength….
“I’m sorry, Dex, but I’m going to need you to stay awake a little longer.” Wolf stood and reached into his jacket pocket—Mary Poppins’s pocket apparently—and pulled out a syringe with a clear liquid.
Fuck me, seriously?
Dex wavered on the edge of the abyss, slightly aware of his head being gently tilted to the side, his hair stroked absently before he felt the tiniest prick to his neck. One minute he was ready to surrender to the encroaching blackness, and the next he feared his heart would explode. He gasped for air and twisted in his seat, his muscles straining as he pulled. Tears welled in his swollen eyes as his senses sharpened. Every dull ache and throb flared into a shrilling agony. His eyesight sharpened, and his breath came out in pants.
“Fuck!” Dex blinked a few times before shutting his eyes tight. Everything was so bright. Even the shadows seemed to fade. “What did you give me?”
“Just a little concoction of mine. Not at all dissimilar to Therian epinephrine. The dose was lower, of course. I don’t want your Human heart to give out on me.”
Dex squinted and tried to open his eyes again. It still hurt, but he was stunned that he could see all the way across the room to the closed door, as if someone had turned up a dimmer switch. There was a steel table next to the door Dex hadn’t seen before because it had been too dark. On it was a pitcher of water and a stack of plastic cups. Whatever Wolf had given him seemed to clear his vision enough to see past the shadows.
“You continue to surprise me, Dex.” Wolf shook his head. “Would you like some water before we move on?”
Dex nodded. At least Wolf was keeping him hydrated. He placed the plastic cup of cool water to Dex’s lips and helped him drink. When he was done, Wolf smiled at him before returning the cup to the table across the room.
“As much as I’m enjoying your company, Dex, we’re going to have to hurry this along.” Wolf came to stand before him. “Your boyfriend or your brother?”
Dex stared at him. “What?”
Wolf walked over to his chair. “I was hoping you would be like the others, eventually look to save yourself and thereby give me what I want, but I see now you’re every inch the man I believed you to be. You have no trouble sacrificing yourself for your cause.” He removed his gloves before turning them inside out, then tossing them onto the chair. With a sigh, he rolled down his sleeves. “I can’t get through to you like this. The only way to get to you is through someone you love.”
Dex’s heart almost stopped.
Wolf finished with his cuff links, then slipped into his jacket. “I’m going to bring back your boyfriend or your brother, I’ll let you choose which, and then I will take him apart piece by piece until you give me the information I want.”
“I’m telling you the truth! I don’t know what file you’re talking about. There was nothing like that left behind. No letter, note, nothing addressing a file. Please.” Dex struggled against the restraints. The thought of Sloane or Cael in this room terrified him. “I’ll do what you want. Just leave them out of this.”
Wolf walked over and bent forward, his gaze holding Dex’s. “Who’s it going to be? The love of your life or your baby brother?” A thought seemed to strike him, and he snapped his fingers. “I have a better idea. How about I bring them both, and then you can look them in the eye when I make you choose who lives and who dies. Either way, I’ll make them both bleed.”
Rage erupted through Dex like a fiery geyser. He let out a fierce cry and wrenched at the zip ties with all the strength he could summon. They snapped. The ones around his wrists first, then his ankles.
Wolf’s eyes went wide, and Dex thrust his head forward, head-butting Wolf and sending him stumbling back. He rubbed his forehead before staring at Dex.
“How did you do that?”
“Guess you don’t know everything,” Dex growled, lunging at Wolf.
The two of them hit the floor, thrashing and trying to do as much damage to the other as possible. Wolf was undoubtedly cursing his luck right now. If he hadn’t pumped Dex with that Therian shit, Dex wouldn’t have had the strength to stand much less fight.
Wolf was a trained professional and a Therian, but Dex wasn’t without skill. Thanks to Sparks, months of special training, of getting his ass handed to him by TIN specialists, of pushing himself beyond his limits, was finally paying off. He was never more grateful to Sparks for kicking his ass like she had than he was at this moment.
They got to their feet and circled each other. How many people had Wolf tortured and killed? And who the hell did the guy work for? Whoever he was, Dex couldn’t let him near his family.
“How did you get out of those restraints?” Wolf demanded.
Dex had no idea, but he wasn’t about to let Wolf know that. “Who are you working for?”
Wolf charged him, using his elbows in the hopes of inflicting as much damage as possible, but Dex remembered Sparks’s training. Wolf’s blows were continually blocked, with Dex quickly picking up on the guy’s technique. He matched Wolf’s speed, anticipating where Wolf would hit rather than reacting. It was something Dex discovered he was good at. Sparks had noticed right away, so rather than simply teaching him new techniques, she had him mimic his opponent’s and use what he’d learned against them. Dex threw his hands up, blocking the blow Wolf intended for Dex’s ears. Recovering swiftly, Dex threw an uppercut, catching Wolf under his chin, followed by an onslaught of fierce punches before Wolf could get his bearings.
Dex’s muscles pulled and burned, but his adrenaline had spiked. He was so close to freedom he could taste it, so he reached even deeper, putting all his strength behind every blow, making sure not to get too cocky. Wolf let out a fierce growl and lashed out, snatching a hold of Dex’s jacket. Dex went with the momentum, spinning and pulling his arms out of the sleeves. With a frustrated grunt, Wolf chucked the jacket to one side and lunged at Dex, who spun out of the way. If Wolf got his hands on Dex, it’d be over. He couldn’t allow that. Sloane…. He had to get back to Sloane.
“You won’t make it out of here,” Wolf warned, his breath unsteady.
Dex met Wolf’s eyes and grinned. “Like how I wouldn’t be getting out of that chair? How’d that work out for you?”
Wolf smoothed back his hair, and Dex readied himself. The guy was rethinking his strategy. Dex gingerly inched away from the door, his eyes locked on Wolf. He didn’t have to wait long. Wolf’s gray eyes turned hard, empty, and he charged Dex, fangs elongated as he attacked, just as Dex had hoped.
Dex had maneuvered Wolf exactly where he wanted him. Before Wolf could grab him, Dex snatched hold of Wolf’s chair, swung it around, and slammed the steel piece of furniture into Wolf. The guy hit the floor hard, his head banging against the concrete. He didn’t stir. Dex quickly rummaged through Wolf’s pockets. There was nothing.
Leaving the guy on the floor, Dex ran farther into the shadows, and he immediately spotted the faint light coming in from under the door. He grabbed the handle and carefully cracked it open. There was no one on the other side. Slipping out, he closed the door behind him. More darkness and more concrete walls. Where the hell was he? Why was it so damned dark?
It was time to get the hell out of here. His body protested every movement, his head was killing him, but he got moving, sucking in a sharp breath and holding on to his side in a feeble attempt to keep some of the pain at bay. His ribs were bruised, and his lungs burned as his breath quickened. He wouldn’t be able to stay on his feet much longer, but the thought he might blow his only chance at getting out of here, at getting back to Sloane, had him pushing forward.
The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, and he stilled when he caught a whiff of something familiar. It was faint, but he could smell it. Something mixed with licorice. Dex hated licorice. One too many shots of Sambuca in college. Ahead of him in the shadows, he spotted movement. Shit. Had he really thought he could just walk out of here? Several pairs of glowing eyes grew nearer, and Dex stopped, leaning against the wall for support as the figures stalked forward, their shapes soon becoming visible. Three Therians. Dex grinned. One of them had a tranq gun holstered to his belt.
Dex pushed away from the wall and put his hands up in front of him. “I don’t want any trouble, fellas.” He turned his gaze on the lion Therian with the tranq gun and motioned to his face.
“You know, I got a friend with that same scowl. Is that, like, a lion Therian thing, or are you both members of the same Scowler’s Association? No? Okay.”
The guy was short-tempered. Not surprising. The lion Therian lunged at him, and Dex dropped to his knees, twisting his body despite the cry from his muscles. He swiped the guy’s tranq gun, then shot him in the back and sent him stumbling forward. Not skipping a beat, Dex jumped to his feet and fired at the two Therians charging him. One managed to grab him by the neck, lifting him off his feet. Dex grabbed the guy’s wrist while shooting him a second and third time in the chest. Another gasp for air later, Dex was released. He dropped to the floor and coughed before staggering forward. A red light flared to life up on the ceiling, and Dex cursed under his breath. The jig was up.
“Time to get out of Dodge,” Dex grunted, willing his feet to move faster. It was like running through a fog. His vision blurred, and he alternated between squinting and shutting his eyes tight in an attempt to clear them. He took a wrong turn and ended up in a dead end.
“Fuck.” He doubled back quickly, the tranq gun held close. Rounding a corner, he was met with two more Therian goons. He fired, taking one down, and then he was out of darts. Fucking fuck fuck! Tossing the gun to one side, he charged the leopard Therian. He had no idea what the hell he thought would happen, but when he tackled the guy and sent him slamming into the wall behind him, Dex was just as surprised as his foe. Swiftly recovering, Dex pulled back a fist and punched the guy across the head. The guy crumpled to the floor, out cold.
“Holy shit.” Had Wolf given him fucking steroids or something? Whatever it was, Dex was glad for it, though he feared what the repercussions would be. Pushing that aside for now, Dex hurried down the corridors. Up ahead he saw the Exit sign. He could have cried he was so happy. Not waiting for any more goons to show up, he pushed through the door and ran down the dark corridor, not questioning how it was he could see through the darkness. He rushed up the stairs, ignoring his burning lungs.
Bursting out into the night air would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t kept pushing. He had to get away from this place. Phone. He needed a phone. Trees surrounded him on all sides, and he glanced back to find the door he’d come from was set in a brick wall hidden by grime, moss, shrubbery, and foliage. In the distance he heard the faint sounds of city traffic. Was he still in the city? He was certainly in a city. As he moved quickly through the trees, he spotted a small road with a narrow sidewalk at the bottom of an incline and beyond that, homes. He’d never make it to any of those houses. Voices carried through the air, and Dex hurried down the incline to the sidewalk, trying his best not to fall, because if he did, he wouldn’t be getting back up.
Hunching himself over, he stumbled by the two Humans walking by, bumping into one of them.
“Watch it, asshole,” one guy grumbled as he kept moving. Yep, definitely still in New York City.
“Sorry, man.” Dex staggered toward the small hill he came from and climbed back up, his legs growing shaky. Normally the darkness would make him nervous, but now it was his sanctuary. There was plenty of light for him to see movement, in case someone tried to get the drop on him. The expanse of trees stretched on for miles, and he kept going as long as he could. When his knees gave out from under him, he dragged himself over to a tree and sat up against it. He pulled out the phone he’d swiped from the guy he’d bumped into. After one ring, Sloane picked up.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me,” Dex choked out, tears filling his eyes. It was so damned good to hear Sloane’s voice.
“Oh thank God. Dex, where are you?”
“I… I have no idea. There’s lots of trees. I don’t see any signs. There was a road, but I don’t know what it was. Can you get Cael to find my location using the phone’s GPS?”
There was some faint murmuring before Sloane’s voice returned.
“He’s on it. Are you okay? Talk to me. What happened?”
“It’s a really, really long story. I just… I need you.” He let his head fall back, and a tremor went through him. His need for the man he loved was crushing, and he blinked back his tears.
“I’m on my way, sweetheart. Are you somewhere safe?”
“Home was safe.”
There was a long pause. “We’ll sort that out. Right now, let’s get you to me, okay? I’m your home.”
Dex smiled despite his split lip. That’s right. Sloane was home. It didn’t matter where they were. As long as Sloane was with him, he was home. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that right now.”
“We have your location. I’ll be there soon. Stay on the line with me.”
“I’m tired.”
“Stay awake, sweetheart. Please.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m kinda in bad shape here.” His adrenaline was crashing and with that his strength, causing his whole body to shake violently. He’d be lucky if he didn’t go into shock. It was so cold all of a sudden.
“Sing with me.”
“What?”
“Come on. Listen.”
Sloane turned up the radio, and Dex smiled at the familiar sounds of strumming guitar followed by clapping. It was the Romantics’ “What I Like About You.” Sloane sang and urged Dex to sing with him. Dex did his best to keep up with the lyrics. He loved this song. He’d danced to it around the kitchen last week while making dinner. Sloane had even joined in after Dex grabbed him and begged him to dance with him. It was the most fun Dex had ever had making baked potatoes.
“Keep singing, sweetheart,” Sloane pleaded.
Dex tried. His voice was rough, his words barely audible, but he tried to keep from slipping into the darkness threatening to drag him under. He wanted to be awake for Sloane, wanted to see his beautiful smile and glowing amber eyes. The light around him seemed to dim, and he couldn’t tell if it was the last of whatever Wolf had given him leaving his system or if he was beginning to lose consciousness. It was all so quiet, or at least it appeared that way, as if time had stilled. His sharpened senses dulled, and he tried to push himself up, but his body refused to cooperate. He had no idea how much time had passed or at what point the phone had slipped from his blood-caked fingers.
“Dex! Dex, where are you?”
“Sloane,” Dex croaked.
Was Sloane really there, or had he simply heard what he was desperate to hear? One moment there was quiet, nothing but shadows, and the next dozens of lights burst through the trees. Sloane emerged alongside three figures in black suits, and when he spotted Dex, he sped over. He dropped to his knees and cradled Dex in his arms. Dex was aware of more people calling his name. Cael? Ash? Thank God they were safe.
“Dex, I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.” Sloane gently hugged him close, one hand around Dex’s back, the other cradling Dex’s head to him, enveloping Dex in warmth. Sloane was always so warm.
“I stayed awake,” Dex murmured, nuzzling his face against Sloane’s shirt, inhaling his scent. He smelled so good.
“You did good, babe. It’s okay.”
Dex nodded, or at least he thought he did. There was chaos around him, quiet chaos. He could hear the many whispers, the orders given to span out and search. All Dex cared about was that the man he loved had come for him and he was once again in Sloane’s arms. Now safe, the darkness came for him.
Familiar Beginnings by Alice Winters
Chapter One
“I think that maybe we might have screwed something up,” I say.
“Maybe? Might have?” Havoc asks as he dangles upside down from the shackles around his ankles. Why they figured putting him upside down was ideal, I’m not sure. They at least hung me from the ceiling by my wrists.
“It was a possibility and you know we have to follow all leads,” I say.
Havoc swings back and forth, arms crossed over his chest, eyes directed on me, until the chain starts rotating and his back is turned to me. He wiggles around until he’s facing me so he can resume glaring. “Remember what I said?”
“Nope.”
“All vampires are dicks.”
“Yes, and I didn’t believe you because you hate Nicco, who is a perfectly fine vampire, so I assumed you were being prejudiced, like normal.”
My arms are starting to hurt from being shackled above my body with my feet left dangling. The shackles have runes embedded in them that keep me from using my magic or I’d have poofed our asses out of here in a burst of smoke, fire, and rubble. Instead, I’m left swinging as I think because Havoc is basically useless since the runes are also keeping Havoc from shifting into his raven form.
We’d thought the vampires had been in contact with Geoff, but it was just a stupid rumor, created by them to try to make themselves look scarier.
“Now hear me out, what if you crawl up my body—” I start.
“And choke you a little for not listening to me?” Havoc asks as he shows me his shiny white fangs. Since he’s a demon, being a little grumpy, easily annoyed, and possessive are some of his character traits. He also loves power, which is how we became bonded. He’s a very handsome man that I’ve known for the past few hundred years. Just recently he finally told me he loved me, which should have been our happy ending. But of course, fate never goes that way. Especially when an ancient dark mage currently wants to eat my heart.
Now, I’m flattered that of all the people in the world, the great dark mage Geoff—risen from the dead—wants to devour my heart, but I kind of like it right where it is. Especially now that I have Havoc by my side.
Literally.
He’s turned around now, his ass in line with my eyes. His two white horns that curl slightly like a ram’s contrast sharply with the rich black of his hair that’s currently sticking out because gravity is pulling it down.
“The upside to this is that I have a very nice view,” I assure him.
He whips his head around to look at me and gives me a grin. “Ooh, you like my ass, dontcha?”
“I mean, it’s you or the dead guy,” I say as I point at the skeleton hanging from the third set of chains.
“His ass is as flat as yours.”
My grin turns immediately to a scowl. “Why do I like you?”
He’s cackling now as he turns to face me again, his blue catlike eyes watching me closely. “Now, what’s this about me climbing you like a tree?” he asks.
“What if you climb up my body and you hold me up so my skin isn’t touching the shackles. Get me? If I try pulling myself up to do it, my hand will be on the chain, so it won’t work.”
“Huh… that could be a semi-smart idea. I’m surprised you thought of it.”
“Surprised? Really?”
“Shocked, honestly,” he says as he swings over, but he misses on the first go. I start swinging too, but now we’re swinging in opposite directions, getting farther apart by the minute. I stop my swings and judge it better before he has a smart-ass comment about that. He wraps his hands around my thighs and that’s when one of his horns slams between my legs.
“Watch my balls!” I cry as I spread my legs, but that just smooshes his face right into my groin.
“I’m watching them real damn close. Why’d you spread your legs, you naughty, naughty boy? I highly doubt right now is the time for that. But I’m so damn good, I bet I could get you to come in an instant.”
“You’re not that good,” I say as I look down into his eyes.
“Tell me I’m that good or I’ll be so brokenhearted that I’ll let go. My hands are slipping! My heart is compressing! I’m fading away!”
I sigh at the drama I have to deal with. “You are so mightily good that my cock becomes erect every time your name graces anyone’s lips,” I say dryly.
“Sometimes I wonder if you were put on this earth to torment me,” he says. “And I’ve been such a good person that I can’t understand why.”
I cock my head, really feeling like this conversation is more important than getting free. “You… You… what? Do you not remember all the times you’ve been mean to me? What about the time you put gryphon piss on the bottom of my shoes and all those horny gryphons tried mating with my feet?”
He’s laughing so hard now that he nearly loses his grip on me. “Barely any of that happened.”
I stare at him.
“Like a fraction. The thing had his ding dong out, but he didn’t try mating you.”
I continue staring at him.
“He might have grazed you with it.”
“Why do I love you?”
“Good question,” he says as he unbuttons my pants and yanks my pants and underwear straight down my thighs before continuing his climb up my body.
“What are you doing?” I cry as cold air touches my ass and balls, but there’s not a lick I can do with my hands strapped above my head.
Havoc is dying, he’s laughing so hard. “I just wanted to see your penis. Sue me. I would think you’d be flattered that your lover wants to see it and isn’t disgusted by it.”
“Yeah, maybe if we were in bed but not in an evil vampire den!” I wiggle a little, but it makes my pants slide down farther, so I quickly still myself. Havoc wraps his arms around my shoulders so we’re eye to eye.
“Hey, babe. Looking pretty sexy, but isn’t your penis getting a little cold?” he says.
“I’m finding a new demon.”
“None will ever be as amazing as me.”
“That’s where I fear you’re wrong,” I grumble, but then he gives me a little sweet kiss that makes me smile and my brain turn to mush. That’s also when the door opens and the vampires look at us in confusion.
“What the fuck is going on here?” the oldest growls.
While most vampires are kind and use synthetic or animal blood, there are a small handful who are complete dicks and get off on feeding from and murdering innocent humans—not that either Havoc or I are innocent, but we don’t go around killing humans for a bit of fun.
And these fuckers need to understand who they’re dealing with.
“I was trying to choke myself on his cock so I didn’t have to see your ugly face again,” Havoc says. He hooks my chain in the crook of his arm so he can keep from falling down as he reaches my hands and pulls me up with his superior strength. The moment he raises me, I push my arms together so he can hold the hard metal shackles away from my skin. He doesn’t completely get it away from both arms, but my power is strong enough that what he does give me allows me to instantly break the bind.
The runes crack, the shackles fall from my wrists, and Havoc lets me drop to the ground. The moment I touch, I step forward to throw magic at these assholes. But I’ve promptly forgotten about my pants being around my ankles. I fall forward, smashing down face-first into the ground.
The vampires cackle and laugh before rushing toward me. I call the name of fire and it rushes out with just a thought, grabbing onto the evil vampires and turning them all to ash.
The room is deadly silent as I roll onto my back and pull my pants up before looking over at Havoc hanging upside down. He starts to whistle like he has no idea why I’m on the ground.
“Havoc?”
“My love! You have defeated the evil ones!”
“Havoc?”
“You’re so amazing!”
“Havoc?”
“You’re gorgeous too! Beautiful brown hair that looks like it came from the angels!”
“You’re not going to make me forget that you nearly got me killed by depantsing me.”
He whistles a merry little tune until I wave my hand and the shackles on his legs break. Of course, I was hoping he’d at least hit the ground, but instead, he flips onto his feet with amazing reflexes. Amazingly annoying reflexes.
He dusts himself off and walks over to me, arms wide open like I’m going to jump into them.
“Back your ass off.”
“I was going to carry you over the vampire dust!” he says as he points at the ashes.
“Oh… then I suppose,” I say, and he picks me up and carries me to the other side of the door. “Well, this was a massive dead end.”
“I don’t know. I had fun.” He sounds like he’s telling the truth, too.
“Your definition of fun is vastly different than mine,” I say as he goes to set me down. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Setting you… on the ground?”
“It’s raining outside, and my feet don’t want to get wet.”
“Yes, your majesty,” he says as he walks through the evil vampires’ lair to the front door and looks out at the downpour. Then he flips me over his shoulder and ducks his head under my body like I’m some human umbrella as he runs to the car.
“You are going on my shit list!” I yell as I’m flopped all around as he comes skidding to a halt at the car. “You only said you didn’t want your feet wet!” He yanks the door open and tosses me inside before running around to the other side and getting in. “Whoo! Man, I almost got wet,” he says as he looks over at me.
Lanni leans forward from the back seat and smiles at us. “Good thing you used Miles as an umbrella,” she says.
Havoc and I just about crawl out of our skin. I nearly explode the car with my magic right then and there. Havoc leaps so high his horns ram into the fabric on the ceiling of the car, ripping it.
“What the hell?” I ask.
Lanni looks to her right, her left, and then behind her in clear confusion. “Am I… missing something? Ooh! Is it another invisible beastie?”
“No, we were in shock about you.”
She seems genuinely surprised about this revelation. “Oh! Yeah, I’ve been here quite a while. I hopped in when I saw those vampires drag you guys inside!”
“And… did you call for help or come to help us?” I ask in disbelief.
“Nope! I mean… really, why would I think you two couldn’t handle some dark vampires? But then it started taking a while, and I was getting bored and hungry, so I called Uber Eats and had them bring me a sandwich from that cute little place down the road. It was delicious!”
“And you never thought to help us?” I ask.
“I got you guys sandwiches too!” She pops them in front of us, and I instantly forgive the idiot. Lanni is an interesting being. She can take over the bodies of the recently deceased and live in them like they’re her own body. She doesn’t bring the body back to life, seeing as the person who once used it has since moved on, but while she’s in the body, it’ll continue to age and be affected by ailments. And when the body becomes too old, she moves on to another.
Right now, she’s in the body of a woman with frizzy blonde hair and a huge smile. Freckles are dotted over her button nose. But just because I refer to her as “she” doesn’t mean she’s actually a female. To my understanding, she’s genderless and takes on the pronoun of the body she inhabits, though she isn’t picky about which gender of body she takes. She says it makes her feel closer to them and the body is more accustomed to their own gender, instead of a new one.
“I’ll forgive you this once,” I say as I take the sandwich. When I open it up and see that it’s my favorite sandwich from a place down the road, I immediately forgive her even more. It’s still warm and tastes delicious enough I can even forget that she watched them drag us inside and did nothing.
“Did you find anything?” Lanni asks.
“Miles flashed them his penis and then they burst into ash.”
“Ah… makes sense,” she says with a nod.
I glare at Havoc. “It doesn’t make sense.”
He grins at me from behind his chicken cordon bleu.
“So what now?” Havoc asks.
“I don’t know, I’m running out of leads. I’m not sure we’ll ever find the mage who helped bring Geoff back to life. I just really thought that if we found them, we could torture Geoff’s location out of them,” I say. “But this was just another dead end.”
Havoc nods approvingly. “You know I always enjoy a good torturing. But we’ve already looked into every legal mage within hundreds of miles and none are strong enough, so that leaves the illegal ones, and who knows where all of them are.”
“What if it’s not a mage?” Lanni asks.
“What else would be strong enough?” I ask as I start the car.
She thinks about it for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know… maybe you’re right. I mean… the spell calls for a mage, right?”
“Yes. They would have been using the book of Teller, who was a dark mage. So we’re probably looking for someone who is very familiar with black magic,” I say, but the only dark mage I’ve ever come across was Geoff. He taught me some black magic, but I was able to save myself before I let it consume me or let myself be drawn in by its power. I can use some black magic, but only spells that I know I won’t be pulled into. Black magic is a powerful thing, but if you’re not mentally strong enough, it’ll pull you into its power, which is how many dark mages lose their lives.
Havoc stills my hand, and for a moment, I wonder if something’s wrong. Then he directs my sandwich to his mouth and takes a bite. “That’s pretty good. Try mine.”
“I think we have bigger things to worry about,” I say before taking a bite. “Ooh, that’s good too.”
Havoc leans back in his seat. “Let’s head home. I’ll talk to some demons and see if they’ve heard anything about a dark mage.”
“Lanni, are you riding with us?” I ask.
She seems to have been waiting for this because she claps her hands together. “Yes! I’ll ride back with you. I didn’t bring a car here.”
“How’d you get here?”
I hear her seat belt snap into place. “This man drove me! He was very nice and told me I looked like his dead wife.”
“You got into a strange vehicle with a creepy stranger who told you that you looked like his dead wife?” I ask in concern. How has she not died yet?
“I did! Don’t worry. I can’t die… I think.”
“Why do you attract such strange people?” Havoc asks as I begin to drive.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit.
The Ghost in the Emerald Cabin by Michele Notaro & Sammi Cee
Chapter One
Gabe
“I’m very sorry to hear that, sir,” I said as I went through the guest’s information on my computer, starting the check-out process.
Mostly ignoring me, the man kept up his tirade. “This is unbelievable. For the amount we paid for that cabin, you’d think we’d be able to get some sleep in there. What the hell are you trying to pull? You scaring away guests, then keeping their deposits and renting the room out to someone new? What kind of scheme are you running here, Mr. O’Neil?”
“I assure you we’re not running any schemes here, Mr. Jones. But I promise you, we’ll get to the bottom of this,” I said, not for the first time. “Alright, I’m putting in a special request to get your deposit back since this is of no fault of your own.” I normally wouldn’t do that, but considering what the man was claiming, and knowing how prone to rumor-spreading his family was, I decided it would be better in the long run. Hopefully, Tate wouldn’t mind.
That seemed to catch his attention, and Mr. Jones blinked at me. “You’re refunding the full amount?”
“For the other five nights you’d planned to stay, yes.”
“Oh.”
My eyebrows rose. Hearing that he’d get his money back must’ve broken his brain. I finished checking him out, happy for the few moments of silence after being yelled at all morning, then sent Mr. Jones on his way.
As soon as he was out of the resort’s main entrance doors, I turned to my coworker, Judy, and said, “I’m taking my lunch break.”
She lifted a brow and made a show of looking at the clock, then slowly said, “Alright.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know it’s not even eleven o’clock yet. It’s been a long morning, and if I don’t get out of here for a few minutes, I might strangle the next guest that complains that their room is haunted. Or even the next person that decides the shampoo we provide is too floral smelling or something.”
Judy had an amused expression on her young face, but she only shrugged and said, “You’re the boss.”
“Don’t remind me.”
She chuckled and waved me off, her curls bouncing as she turned to help another customer.
Intending to go outside for some fresh air, I rushed into the back where the employee-only area was so I didn’t get stopped by another guest, but I slowed when I noticed my boss’s office door ajar. My boss—Tate Merit, the Narrow Peaks Ski Resort’s General Manager—happened to be one of my closest friends. More like my best friend, to be honest. Though I wished he was more.
Jesus, Gabe, get that out of your head right now.
That wasn’t an idea I let myself entertain. Ever. It hurt too much every time I realized it would never happen.
With a deep breath, I pushed the unwanted thoughts away and stepped toward the door.
Peeking my head into the office, I found Tate scowling at his computer screen, and I couldn’t help but smile at the expression on his handsome face. If I didn’t like staring at him so much, I might be jealous of his good looks, but I appreciated the view too much. Tate was hot. Like the hottest man I knew.
Older than me by eight years, a few inches taller and broader, too, and packed with muscle—he never failed to look put together and pristine at work. His soulful dark brown eyes made me wish I could sink into them. His dark, almost black, hair was always styled neatly, but was long enough to get a good grip on if I was braver than I was and ran my fingers through it like I’d always wanted to. His beard was always trimmed and cut to the perfect length so he didn’t look like the wolf-man but still had a full beard. I’d love to see what he’d look like all rumpled and debauched.
The only time I’d ever seen him looking carefree was out on the slopes.
In fact, that was how we’d met. I’d been twenty the first time Tate and I found ourselves on top of a mountain together. It had been an expert trail, so there hadn’t been many people around, and we’d gotten to talking. I’d been there with my family, and Tate had been there with his cousin, but since none of our family members had wanted to go on that trail with us, we’d found ourselves alone. But together. Our shared love of skiing had easily solidified our friendship, and by the end of that trip, we’d already been planning to meet up again. After the next trip, we’d planned another and another. And before we knew it, we’d been skiing together for the last seven years.
When Tate’s uncle had bought Narrow Peaks Ski Resort and handed the reins over to him, Tate had asked me to come work for him to help him manage the staff. I’d jumped on the opportunity. It was the perfect job for me. Not only was I working with my best friend, I was doing something I loved. Not to mention the perks of free time on the slopes and getting to live here in the employee housing. Tate ran the business side of things, and I helped with the people side.
And I kept the little crush I’d been harboring for years a secret. No way did I want to risk our friendship by overstepping, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much—and how often—I fantasized about him.
Under Tate’s watchful eye, the resort had turned into a beautiful, luxurious spot for any skier, from beginner to expert, to come stay. The mountain was just about the most gorgeous place I’d ever seen, and the view from any part of the hotel was beautiful. The slopes were to die for, and if I could get away with it, I’d spend every waking moment out there.
Our hotel was top-notch with large windows in all the community areas so everyone could take in the breathtaking views, and we had rooms that were just as comfortable as they were pleasing to the eye. The individual cabins we had available to rent were some of the nicest I’d seen, despite what Mr. Jones had said. The resort’s restaurant had an amazing chef, the bar and grill area was great for anyone not in the mood for fine dining, the ski store had awesome gear to rent or buy, the indoor pool and hot tub were top-notch, the gym was state-of-the-art, and the children’s area was great for parents that needed a break from their little ones for a bit. And if I did say so myself, the staff were some of the nicest people I knew, and they were all dedicated to making our customers’ stay here as amazing as possible. Really, if you asked me, this place was anyone’s dream vacation spot. I was lucky to be a part of it.
“Hey,” I said after I’d taken my fill of him.
Tate’s stern expression faded away the moment he met my eyes, and a smile spread over his gorgeous face. “Hey.” His eyes raked my body quickly—not enough to make me think he was checking me out, even if I wished he was—taking in my appearance before he frowned again. “What’s wrong?”
I walked inside and shut the door behind me. “We had another guest check out early from the Emerald Cabin.”
Tate’s shoulders drooped. “Are you kidding me?”
I shook my head as I sat in the seat across from him. “Third one this month.”
“Plus the two last month, and the ones in the left-wing of the hotel.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and giving me a nice view of his chest as his shirt stretched across it. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, showing off his thick muscles and skin that looked so soft. I wished I could run my fingers over it, or better yet, my tongue. He probably tasted delicious. He really did look good enough to eat, and if I could, I’d gobble him up like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“Gabe?”
My head snapped back to Tate’s face to find him staring at me like I’d lost my mind. He must’ve been calling me several times while I ogled his arms. “Hm?”
“Do you have any ideas on how to fix this?”
I blew out a frustrated breath and mirrored his position, placing my hands behind my head. “I really don’t know. Half the customers don’t say why they’re leaving, and the other half act like the place’s haunted. It makes no sense at all.”
Tate grimaced, and even that expression didn’t make him any less handsome. “There have been reports of hauntings all over the resort, yet I haven’t seen a damn thing.”
I hesitated because while I hadn’t seen anything, that didn’t mean I hadn’t felt things. But feeling creeped out in certain parts of the resort didn’t really mean anything. Honestly, all the guests’ crazy stories had probably been getting to me. Not wanting Tate to think I was nuts, I said, “I haven’t seen anything either, and we’re here all the time. Hell, we both live in the employee quarters on the grounds. If anyone would’ve seen something, it’d be us, right?” Right?
“Not to mention the fact that ghosts aren’t real.”
I shot him a half-smile. “That too.”
He cracked a smile, then sighed, keeping his eyes on me. “Wanna walk over to Emerald with me and see if we find anything? There’s gotta be some kids coming on the grounds and messing with people or something. Maybe they left something behind.”
“Sure, let’s take a look.”
We both stood up, and while he got his coat on, I walked across the hall to my office to grab mine. We changed into snow boots that we kept easily accessible—we did work at a ski resort, after all, and regularly had to walk the snowy grounds—and I put my gloves on as we met in the hallway.
Tate chuckled at me and reached into my pocket. I held my breath as he pulled my beanie out, then reached up and brushed my hair off my forehead. He smiled at me as his fingers tugged the hat on my head, fingertips brushing the tips of my ears and the back of my neck.
He kept adjusting the hat—for no reason, really, since it felt fine where it sat on my head—but I wasn’t about to complain about his nearness. His face was so close to mine, I could feel his breath ghosting across my cheek. I had to fight the urge to lean in and kiss those pretty lips or bury my face in his neck to smell the familiar cologne he wore. Because I was staring at him, I saw his eyes flick down to my mouth as his tongue swept across his lips. My eyes widened, but Tate pulled away before I could figure out what in the hell that had meant.
His eyes met mine, and I saw a flash of uncertainty—and maybe of sadness—so I stepped close to him again, tilted my head back to meet his eyes, and whispered, “You okay?”
From his taller height, he had to look down to meet my gaze, and I watched him search my face for a long moment before he finally settled on, “Yeah, Gabe, I’m okay.”
“You sure? You can talk to me.”
He sent me a soft smile that lifted one side of his mouth up. “I know, and you know I got your back, too.”
Returning his smile, I nodded.
He searched my face for another moment before blowing out a breath and stepping back, saying, “Let’s go check out the cabin.”
“Right. Yeah. Let’s, uh, let’s do that.”
He chuckled before heading down the hall to the door. Once we were outside, he said, “I was thinking about going to Wameda Slopes next week for a night, check out their double black diamond trail. You wanna come with?”
“Really?”
He turned toward me and lifted a brow. “I haven’t gone skiing without you in like three years, and before that, it was only because you were off visiting your parents that one time, and you were gone forever, so I went skiing because I was bored without you around, bugging me.” That was Tate’s way of saying he’d missed me, which was sweet, even if he was being stupid about admitting it.
“I was only gone for a week.”
“Exactly. You were gone forever.”
I chuckled and shoulder-bumped him. “You go skiing here all the time without me.”
He waved me away. “Narrow Peaks doesn’t count. We live here. I meant going on a trip. So you in?”
“Yeah, I’m in, but I’m bringing my snowboard.”
“Oh yeah, that’ll be fun. I’ll bring mine, too, as long as you bring your skis.”
“Duh. Of course I’m bringing them.” I had to bite my lips to keep from smiling too widely.
We made it to the Emerald Cabin—each of our cabins were named after a gemstone—and we both slowed down as we stared at it. From the front, the little log cabin looked like it always did, warm, welcome, and picturesque with its slanted roof, little porch, and the green curtains in the windows, all surrounded by snow and trees. Tate led the way, carrying the master key, and let us inside. Since this was the Emerald Cabin, the green theme inside was obvious, although the designer Tate had hired to decorate the resort had done an amazing job of making it look cozy and inviting.
Scanning the place, nothing looked out of sorts except the dishes in the sink, the unfolded blanket on the couch, and the messy sheets in the bedroom, but that was to be expected since the cleaning crew hadn’t made it out here yet.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Tate asked, like it wasn’t his idea to come out here in the first place.
I shrugged. “Mr. Jones said they kept hearing strange sounds, like bumps and footsteps, and that his belongings kept getting moved around.”
“Wasn’t he here with his wife? How does he know she wasn’t moving things around on him?”
“No clue. He did also say that both nights they stayed, while he and his wife were sleeping, their blankets got pulled off the bed, and…”
“And what?”
“And that it felt like someone climbed into bed with them, but there was no one there. His wife said she felt the same thing.”
Tate wrinkled his nose as he came to stand beside me. “That’s… disturbing.”
“Right? That one couple last month said the same thing, though, so I thought it was weird. Could be a coincidence, but it’s a really odd one if it is, you know?”
“Another couple said that? I don’t remember that.”
I removed one of my gloves so I could scratch my cheek. “You were handling that plumbing problem in the left-wing, remember? I didn’t want to bother you with something so outrageous.”
“You could have.”
“Maybe, but you were—”
“You’re never a bother, Gabe.” Tate met my eyes with sincerity in his depths. “You should never feel like you can’t approach me, and I don’t mean only for work.”
My heart did a little hopeful flutter in my chest. No matter how much I told it to stop, it always got all mushy around Tate. Stupid organ. “Thanks—”
I went to say more, but a strange wind blew across my face, distracting me. Cold chills ran up my arms and the skin on the back of my neck pebbled as my heart began to race. I turned around, searching for the source of the wind and finding none. The front door was shut, as were all the windows.
Another chill ran up my spine, and I spun on my heel, but found no one behind me. That feeling you got when you knew someone was looking at you was running strong through me.
But no one was there.
Bitter Heat by Leta Blake
PROLOGUE
The prison smelled like piss and fear.
The scent had soaked into Kerry’s clothes and hair during the days he’d spent locked inside. It choked him even as guards led him away from the prison’s black iron gates and barbed-wire-covered walls. The bruises all over his body from his alpha’s rough treatment made the guards’ manhandling difficult to bear, but he didn’t have the energy to protest or the strength to cry out.
The guard on his right, the one who spoke with a deep, sub-Calitan accent, placed a hand on top of his head to prevent hitting it against the roof of the waiting, chauffeured car as the guard on his left maneuvered him inside. As if that small gesture was going to cushion him from injury—too little, too late.
“He’s clear,” the guard said, his accent thick, before ducking down to regard Kerry with carefully tempered sympathy in his eyes. Kerry thought he might be the same guard who’d cared for him after the heat had ended last time, too. “Have a safe trip home, all right?”
Kerry didn’t acknowledge him. He was too dazed to speak after his long ordeal. Aching all over from head to hole and down to his toes and back again, he wanted to cry, but tears didn’t come. His legs quaked, too exhausted from days of enforced heat spent with his imprisoned, contracted alpha, only sustained throughout by disgusting prison food and the primal urges he wished he could snuff out.
Almost as much as he wished he could be snuffed out.
Safe in the backseat of a plush, Monhundy-owned car, driven by a man hired by his wealthy in-laws and entrusted with Kerry’s well-being, he smoothed his now-wrinkled silk shirt with shaking hands. He didn’t understand why his in-laws always insisted he dress nicely when he came for these visits. No one saw him in his clothes but guards and prison officials. He was naked by the time they led him to Wilbet. But the Monhundys would never approve of Kerry appearing in “public” looking anything but well-heeled.
Outside, the sun poured down—the heat of summer already in full blaze in the arid county around the prison. The air fairly shimmered with heat, and he longed for the cool shadows of his beloved mountains, the wetness of the lake, and his pater’s comforting embrace.
Kerry pressed the tips of his fingers to his eyelids, blocking out the light, as gorge rose in his throat. This was the third heat his in-laws forced him to endure since Wilbet went to prison for the rape of Calitan district prostitutes, and each was more humiliating and violent than the last. There had been times leading up to this heat when he’d considered taking matters into his own hands. A knife, a gun, a rope—it didn’t matter what he used. All that mattered was stopping the trauma before it started again.
But he couldn’t do that to his pater. The Monhundys and their heartless desire for an heir of their son’s flesh and blood could be wolf-goddamned as far as Kerry was concerned. But his pater needed him. It’d tear a hole in his heart too large to ever heal if Kerry acted on his urges to end things.
After Kerry had settled in the backseat, the driver pulled the car away from the prison, jostling over the potholes lining the road in front of it. Pain shot through Kerry’s core, and he caught a whiff of Wilbet’s semen still lodged inside, left over from the last knot they’d shared. It now slipped free. Just like the first two heats after Wilbet’s conviction, the prison guards, armed with guns to keep Wilbet’s violent impulses in check, had ignored any non-lethal abuse Wilbet wanted to pile on. They’d only pulled Kerry away from his alpha and out of the heat room when the last wave had finally, completely passed. Like always, they’d had a doctor examine him for any serious injury, watched him dress with shaking limbs, and finally sent him away without a shower or a bath.
Like always.
The prison scent lingered, yes, but as far as Kerry was concerned, Wilbet’s scent was far worse. His contracted mate was anathema to him now, and yet Kerry was still legally bound to him so long as the Monhundy family refused to dissolve their side of the agreement. In fact, his in-laws now legally held the reins on Kerry’s life choices, finances, and heats since Wilbet’s incarceration. It was a side notation in the contract that Kerry had never thought to question, never imagining it would come to fruition. He’d been more concerned about the dissolution of the contract in the event of Wilbet’s untimely death—and that had been negotiated in his favor. He’d failed to take into account other contingency clauses.
Another slip of semen led his stomach to rebel hard. Kerry managed to alert the driver to his predicament, and the car pulled over to the side of the road with a quick jerk. Kerry shoved the heavy door open, leaned out, and vomited onto the road. The rancid foulness heaved up from deep inside like poison from his soul.
“Reckon it took, then?” the driver said when Kerry wiped his mouth with a crumpled handkerchief and sat back in his seat. Kerry pulled the car door closed again with a weak slam. “Going to be a pater, you think?”
Kerry swallowed back another heave and said nothing, staring out the window. Tears welled in his eyes as they drove away from the behemoth of a prison. It stood—a solid, dark brick building full of shiver-inducing cruelty—backlit by a white sun and a hot, blank sky. As blank as Kerry’s future, and just as empty.
Smoothing a hand over his shirt again, and wishing he had a jacket to stop his chills, Kerry closed his eyes to pray to wolf-god that there would be no child. He prayed for a solution. A way out of his wretched life. Most of all, he prayed for freedom.
Because he’d never dare pray for love again.
Dragon's Fire by Jena Wade
Chapter One
Flint
I arrived late for my shift at the coffee shop. Unusual for me, I tried to get to work on time each day. Early was on time, and on time was late. Thankfully, Claire, my partner-in-crime for the day, arrived on time to start our shift.
It was a twenty-four-hour coffee shop, but she and I were covering the morning rush, starting at seven-thirty and ending around ten. It was my favorite shift because that was when he came in. Mr. Double Shot Mocha Latte.
“Has he been here yet?” I asked as I tied my apron.
Claire grinned. “No, but I think I saw his car pull up a minute ago. He should be walking in any second.”
I let out a sigh and smoothed my apron. I looked forward to Leo's visit every shift. I was drawn to him for reasons I didn’t fully understand; it was more than just his looks. The man was a God. Broad shoulders, striking eyes that had a hint of red flame in them, dressed to kill every day in tailored suits that cost more than my yearly salary. He was some sort of business executive or CEO or something. Whatever he did, it was important, and he had a lot of money. And for whatever reason, he chose this coffee shop to get his daily dose of caffeine. He came in every weekday and ordered the same drink himself, he didn't have an assistant get it for him.
I'd never understand it, but perhaps he was one of those good guy CEOs that was “one with his people” or whatever. He never said much, but he always had a smile and a good tip for whoever was behind the counter.
Sometimes, when I let my imagination run wild, I envisioned he'd arrive one day and sweep me off my feet, taking me to his top-floor penthouse and we’d spend the day ravishing each other in bed. But I never admitted that little fantasy out loud. In fact, I tried to suppress it. After all it was foolish to have those sorts of fantasies. Though they were harmless, it made my real-life interactions with the man awkward when I was busy imagining him naked.
But I couldn't control what happened when I was asleep, and lately real life had invaded my night time, and the two of us burned up the sheets in my dreams. I woke up hot, feverish with my cock aching on a daily basis.
Claire's squeak brought me back to reality, as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fuckable walked into the cafe. She took his order, which I had memorized by now. It was already waiting for him by the time he reached the end of the counter.
I handed it to him with a smile. “Here you go. Have a good day,” I said.
He took the drink from me. Our fingers brushed, and electricity shot between us. Purely my imagination, I'm sure.
He looked up and met my eyes. “Thank you.”
I nearly melted to the floor. This could not be healthy, having this obsession with one of my customers. At least it was just one, and not every hot guy that came in the door. No one could hold a candle to this man anyway.
I busied myself wiping down the counter so I didn't stare at him any longer, and he turned to leave. Then he stopped and turned around, holding his coffee in one hand.
“I'm going to be away for a few weeks,” he said. “So, you might not see me.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Just thought you might want to know, since I'm here every day and you usually have my coffee ready before I even order it.”
“Oh, okay,” I said. Disappointment settled in me. I wouldn't see him in the flesh, however I would probably still see him in my dreams. “Going on a vacation?”
“Sort of,” he said. “Some friends and I get together every year and fly around a bit.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Fly around? Are you pilots?”
His cheeks tinged with red. “No, we're not. I meant we just hang out and visit at my friend’s country estate.” His voice was choppy, like he wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to say. Was he nervous? Talking to me?
“Well, that sounds fun,” I said. “Have a good time.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I'll, uh, be back in a few weeks.”
I waved, and he left the café, taking a piece of my heart with him.
No. I shook myself. That was ridiculous, I barely knew the guy.
Claire was at my side the minute he walked out the door. She nudged me in the ribs. “Oh my God. He likes you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Doubtful. The guy's a billionaire, I'm sure. I don't think he has eyes for the low-income dude who makes his coffee.”
“No, he likes you.”
“He was just being courteous, letting us know that he wouldn't be here for a while. He is one of our regulars. He's been here every day for the past six months.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes. “I think that went beyond courteous. I think he likes you.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that, but that doesn’t make it true. I'm going to miss him, though.” I looked forward to seeing him every day.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “You’re always making cow eyes at him when he’s here.”
“Whatever,” I said. “Get back to your side of the counter. I'm busy over here.” I swatted her away with a towel, and she jumped out of its reach.
“Nice try,” she said.
“Get back to work.” I stuck my tongue out at her.
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
Join Charlie's newsletter and stay up to date with Charlie's latest releases, receive exclusive content, giveaways, and more!
Alice Winters started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to turn her ideas into written words. She loves writing a variety of things from romance and comedy to action. She also enjoys reading, horseback riding, and spending time with her pets.
Michele is married to an awesome guy that puts up with her and all the burnt dinners she makes—hey, sometimes characters are a bit distracting, and who doesn’t plot when they’re supposed to be cooking? They live together in Baltimore, Maryland with two little monsters, a three-legged fiend, and a little old man (aka their two sons, their cat, and their senior dog). She hopes to rescue another cat soon, and if her hubby wouldn’t kill her, she’d get more than one… and maybe a few more dogs as well.
She loves creating worlds filled with lots of love, chosen family, and of course, magic, but she also likes making the characters fight for that happy ending. She hopes to one day write all the stories in her head—even if there are too many to count!
Sammi Cee was raised in a family of readers. Summer vacations consisted of a good book while sitting lakeside from as far back as she could remember. After growing up and having her own children, her appreciation of how the written word could transport you on an adventure, bring you to tears, or give you hope, took on a whole new meaning.
These days Sammi is watching her children develop into fine young ladies while doing the things she enjoys most: drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and writing her own stories.
These days Sammi is watching her children develop into fine young ladies while doing the things she enjoys most: drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and writing her own stories.
Author of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake’s educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.
Jena began writing in January of 2013 as a New Year's Resolution--and so far she has stuck to it!
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
Charlie Cochet
EMAIL: charlie@charliecochet.com
Alice Winters
EMAIL: alicewintersauthor@gmail.com
Michele Notaro
Sammi Cee
Leta Blake
Smoke & Mirrors by Charlie Cochet
Familiar Beginnings by Alice Winters
The Ghost in the Emerald Cabin by Michele Notaro & Sammi Cee
Bitter Heat by Leta Blake
Dragon's Fire by Jena Wade
No comments:
Post a Comment