Omega Mine

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Where are they?” Trey sneered into the bloodied face of the man, who didn’t flinch or give an inch. “You will tell me what you know or I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

The masochistic asshole smiled, spat in his face and taunted, “Fuck you.”

Trey had brought his hand back, prepared to deliver a blow that would crush the eye on the unmarred side of the bastard’s face, when a hand wound around his wrist.

“Stop, brother,” Emory said evenly though his voice was rough. “The Shepherds are long gone. I think everyone knows they never intended to stay.”

Emory nodded to his former friend and pack mate, Brian. “Shut him up.”

Brian stepped behind the man strapped to the chair in the center of the room and lifted the kitchen towel they’d been forced to use as a gag. The man struggled as Brian forced the material into his mouth like a cloth bridle.

Trey snarled his outrage. There wasn’t much left intact in the basement now. In an effort to curb his temper, Trey had attacked any object in the room that could take the edge off his anger and lessen the sting of the vast ache in his chest. Like Diskant, he felt the loss of his pack mates, was aware of the precise moment when their lives had been snuffed from existence.

Gazing around the room, he studied the pensive faces of those who had lost loved ones. Some were fortunate, having lost only close friends and acquaintances as their immediate families chose to remain outside the city, in more rural, less-populated areas. Others, however, were in the grip of grief.

His attention drifted to two of the mated males who’d lost their females in the explosion.

One was newly mated to a wolf female, which meant he might survive the loss. There was no bloodbond to complicate things.

The same couldn’t be said for the other.

Trey ripped his gaze from Zach, who was now a virtual dead-shifter-walking, detached from everything around him. He sat unmoving, staring blindly across the room. Although he’d only been in the second stage of the bond with Katie, it was enough that he probably wouldn’t survive the loss.

Fuck if it didn’t make him furious. So goddamn angry he wanted to tear the Shepherd from throat to asshole and feast on his heart. The void was bad enough without what could occur as a consequence in the aftermath. If Zach didn’t improve, the humane thing would be to put him out of his misery.

A fucking kindness that Trey would be expected to deliver as an Alpha.

Shuffling diverted his focus and he turned in time to see Kinsley descend the stairs with Nathan on his heels. The expression on his face spoke volumes, reminding the pack that while he wasn’t one of their own, his loyalty was as strong and unshakable.

“It took a lot of ass-kissing but the prides have agreed to take turns monitoring the city if you decide to track down the Shepherds responsible.”

“You’re sure we can trust them?” Nathan asked as he strode past Trey.

“They know that this isn’t something they can turn their backs on,” Kinsley answered. “Once Shepherds decide to make a statement like this it’s only a matter of time before they return. The prides won’t risk their own. They’ll band together now. They won’t stand alone when the shit hits the fan.”

“I want their fucking blood.” Trey rotated in a circle until he located Emory. He stared his brother in the eye, wanting to be clear. “Retrieving your mate is only the beginning.”

Emory’s irises flared, shifting from caramel to amber, and he nodded.

“You can’t go to war with the Shepherds,” Kinsley said, reading between the lines. “As Alpha, you’ll bring danger to the packs.”

“You’re right,” Trey remarked dryly. “Which is why I’ll be relinquishing my place before we leave.”

“What?” Everyone in the room questioned in unison, their disbelieving gazes falling on him.

“I’ve lost over half of my pack tonight.” His voice nearly cracked, strained by emotion. “Some of them were friends, others were family. I have to make sure something like this never happens again. We can’t continue to allow Shepherds to choose the battleground and kill us as it suits them. We’ve been neutral for too long. That means some hard choices have to be made. It’s the best time for me to step aside and allow another to take my place so that things will transition smoothly.”

No one spoke yet Trey could hear the unspoken question. The remaining pack wanted to know who would be in charge when he left, who would take control to rebuild and put things back in order. Every Alpha chose his successor. While there could always be a challenge for the position, it was a common practice and display of respect to honor the Alpha’s decision in the matter.

Taking a deep breath, he decided there was no better time than the present to make his intentions known. Although he hadn’t asked the man of the hour to consider accepting the position, he was confident he would nonetheless. It wasn’t just his city at stake but his race as a whole. Being an Omega didn’t change that, it only raised the stakes.

“I plan to ask Diskant to take his rightful place as Alpha. He was born into my pack, raised in my pack, and had the Omega mark not surfaced upon maturity would have become my immediate choice.” A stunned silence spread through the room and he waited several seconds before he continued. “Diskant will want to remain here with his mate. He’s fully bloodbonded now, which means he’ll need to establish a safe haven for Ava and a family.”

“But he’s an Omega,” Brian remarked cautiously.

“So is Ewan McCormick,” Kinsley said, taking slow, intentional strides into the room. “He manages the jaguar pride in New Orleans and resides over the packs in the vicinity. A shifter can be an Omega and the Alpha of a pack. If Diskant is willing to take on the responsibility, it is possible to do both.”

“Do you honestly think he’ll consider it?” Nathan asked.

“Yes, I do,” Trey answered. “He’ll want to make as stable and safe an environment as he can for his mate. There is no better way than to call on the power of a pack.”

“Unless he decides to move to Alaska where they can’t be tracked,” Nathan countered.

“How about you discuss the situation with me instead of taking bets on what I will or won’t do?” Diskant appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in nothing more than blue jeans and a grim smirk, his mate standing at his side.

Trey watched him descend the stairs with the blonde pixie. Diskant’s gaze darted to the Shepherd strapped to a chair, the bandage obscuring his stumped wrist bright red with blood, and for a moment his eyes shifted gold—revealing the wolf. He stopped several feet away and stared at the man, saying nothing, just watching him with a hunter’s eyes. Trey could understand the impulse he was experiencing. Setting the asshole loose and giving chase appealed to him as well but that couldn’t happen.

Not yet.

“I should torture you slowly, you know,” Diskant finally said, tone menacing, moving closer as Ava remained rooted to the spot. “Considering what you are and what you to do our kind, I’m sure you’re aware of how long you can keep someone alive if you really want to. There are so many ways we can stretch the misery out. Maybe we could start simple, by breaking your fingers at the knuckles. We’d reset them, of course, so that we could do it all over again. Or maybe we could get a few needles from the tattoo shop Brian owns. I’ve always wondered how badly it hurts when your cock is pierced like a fucking pin cushion.”

The man remained silent and harsh lines appeared around his mouth as he forced his lips together, as if he knew he’d give over the goods if the punishment for remaining silent was brutal enough. It was a damn shame the son of a bitch couldn’t be told that he would be tortured regardless of his cooperation, his pain used as a balm to nourish and solidify the bonds of the pack. When this was all said and done, he would be provided the opportunity to flee, a fucking sheep amidst a pack of wolves. They would hunt him. They would track him. And when they found him they would take him down as a group, feasting on his blood while ripping him apart piece by piece.

“Nothing to say?” Diskant asked. “That’s all right. We’ll get there. We have all the time in the world.” Bending at the waist, he pressed into the man’s space, forcing him to move his head back or risk bumping noses. “You’ve gone and fucked with the wrong pack, Shepherd.”

“Is that a yes?” Trey asked, stepping closer. “You’ll ascend?”

Diskant snarled into the face of the man in front of him, his teeth no longer human but wolf, the canines large, sharp and prominent. “I’ll deal with you soon,” he promised. His features returned to normal as he moved away from the bound man and stared at Trey.

There was an enormity of pain in his eyes but there was also something else. Something that removed the sickening weight in the pit of Trey’s stomach, providing the first semblance of relief he’d experienced since he’d made the decision to hunt each and every Shepherd down until they’d never threaten another shifter.

“Ava mine,” Diskant’s voice changed as he addressed his mate, leaving Trey’s question unanswered. “Come here.”

She padded over to him, her bare feet silent on the carpet, and stopped at his side. Her focus was entirely on the Shepherd now, a visible crease marring her brow. The Shepherd’s expression suddenly changed. His eyes became cloudy and his facial muscles relaxed. It was as if he’d been given a strong drug of some kind, erasing all the worry, doubt and fear evident in his expression.

Ava unexpectedly brought her right hand to her mouth, her index finger and thumb resting on each side of her nose, and closed her eyes. Even from where he stood, Trey could see that she was trembling. Diskant placed his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers able to encompass the entire circumference of her throat. She took several deep breaths before she opened her eyes and moved her hand until her fingers rested over his.

“They wanted to take out as many of you as they could.” Her voice was quaking and Trey could scent the tangy smell of anxiety and fear radiating from her skin. “They’ve been planning this for weeks.”

“Planning what?”

She lifted her head and looked at Diskant. “To leave a hole in the heart of the shifter population by making sure they killed you.”

“Fucking hell,” Diskant murmured and drew her into his arms.

“And Mary?” Emory asked anxiously.

“She’s at her uncle’s ranch.” Ava’s answer was muffled against Diskant’s chest. “She’s been on lockdown since they found her with you.”

Ava peered up at Diskant and their gazes met. They remained that way for several seconds, as if they were communicating in some manner. Diskant’s face became a mask of fury and outrage.

“Doc,” Diskant growled, never taking his attention from the tiny blonde who studied him with an increasingly sad expression.

The pack physician moved from his spot behind the bar, appearing so different from the professional who practiced family medicine in the human world. His normally tidy appearance was ruined by wrinkled, bloodstained clothing.

“Boss?” Doc asked as he stopped beside the Shepherd who was no longer in a daze and gawked at Ava in horror, trembling violently, the smell of his terror burning in Trey’s nose like Tabasco.

“How long until he bleeds out?”

“A couple hours, maybe more. He’s been slipping into shock ever since we brought him in.”

“Diskant.” Ava’s voice seemed so out of place, so incredibly wrong in the violent fury that permeated the room. She rested her fingers on his cheek. “Don’t be the animal they believe you to be. You’re better than that.”

Pain flitted across Diskant’s face as he gazed down at his female and Trey knew that as much as Diskant wanted to give her what she wanted, he wouldn’t be able to. Pack law dictated revenge and consequence.

“She shouldn’t stay down here, D. It’s too much, too soon,” Trey spoke up. “Have her take the information we need and go back upstairs.”

Diskant bent over and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and turned toward the asshole who remained a mystery to them all. As soon she stepped toward him he started struggling, fists opening and closing as he attempted to rotate his wrists and free himself from the restraints. His good eye narrowed, a line of spit seeping past the gag and down his chin. His words were muffled but his anger was evident, his fury so strong that the pack started shuffling around the room.

Halfway to the man, Ava stopped. A soft intake of air was followed by an ominously whispered, “Oh, dear god.”

She gagged and sagged to the floor. Diskant’s much larger body covered her like a shield as he placed a hand on her lower back and followed her down. She vomited while on her hands and knees, the retching sound loud inside the too-quiet room. She continued until the gagging noises vanished and her heavy breathing replaced them.

Slowly she turned her head, peered past Diskant’s arm and gazed at the Shepherd. The beautiful enchantress was gone, replaced by a woman who had clearly seen something so disturbing she couldn’t stomach it. Her irises shifted color, revealing her bloodbond to the pack for the first time.

“There’s more to it. Isn’t there, Moses?” She struggled to her feet, shrugging aside Diskant’s hand when he tried to help her.

She walked to the Shepherd without hesitation, placed her hand across his face as he started to squirm and closed her eyes. It only took a moment for her to let go and, when she did, she immediately bent at the waist and dry heaved, using the back of the chair the Shepherd was seated in for balance.

“Ava?” Diskant went to her again and this time she accepted his support, leaning into him when he wrapped an arm around her waist. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and stared at the Shepherd, her sapphire eyes brimming with hate and outrage.

“The shifters in this room aren’t who you should be afraid of. Not really. They want you dead but they won’t damn you to hell.”

Her words caused the Shepherd to pale but had the opposite effect on the man across the room. He began rocking his body until the legs of the chair began to wobble. Brian stepped forward and placed his hand on the back rail, keeping it in place. Tension built inside the suddenly confining space until the shifters began to growl in response.

“Tell him, you sorry sack of shit,” she whispered venomously, glowering at the Shepherd. When he remained silent, she threatened, “Tell him, or I will.”

Still he remained as he was, refusing to speak, lips firmly pressed together.

“You know,” she moved from Diskant’s embrace, “I would have asked them to show you some mercy. Now you’re going to wish you’d done the right thing while you had the chance.”

She walked toward the man who snarled and struggled in his chair even as it remained firmly in place. When she finally reached him she elicited shocked gasps from several of the pack when she reached out and smoothed a lock of hair away from his forehead, her touch undeservingly gentle. If her intention was to calm the man, she only made him worse. He jerked from her hand, pressing as far back as he could.

“Ava,” Diskant ground out, his tone a definite warning. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Everyone needs to leave,” she said and glanced over her shoulder to look Diskant in the eye.

Again they stared at each other for several long, agonizing seconds in that eerie fashion that told Trey they were speaking to each other somehow. Diskant glanced at the man just out of Ava’s reach before he turned to study the Shepherd.

Trey started forward but stopped when Diskant shook his head. “We have a lot to discuss, but not right now.” Diskant gazed at the faces inside the room. “Everyone, out.”

Kinsley complied without comment, taking the stairs two at a time, but each wolf shifter in the room stood in a stunned silence, waiting for Trey’s acquiescence. Diskant might be the Omega but, as their Alpha, Trey’s order was the one they’d follow.

“D—” Trey started to argue but Diskant cut him short.

“You want me to take your place? Trust me enough to do what I say without question.”

Damn it.

Trey knew that the decision he made here could make or break him. Diskant had just staked his place as Alpha, giving Trey an instruction instead of a request. If he wanted to continue with his plans he had to back Diskant’s decision in front of the pack, solidifying his faith in the shifter he’d chosen to lead and protect them.

“You heard the man,” Trey growled in frustration and all of the pack moved at once. He hiked his thumb in the direction of the stairs and made sure Diskant was looking at him when he warned, “As soon as your ass comes upstairs, we’re going to have a nice, long chat.”

“Save us some pizza,” Diskant responded, catching him off guard, and turned away before Trey could say anything more.

“Fucking smart-ass,” Trey grumbled as he took four long strides and started climbing the stairs.

The pain was incredible, so consuming it was difficult for Ava to breathe. It wrapped around her, cocooned her and shrouded her in misery. She continued stroking the forehead of the tortured man in front of her, unable to bear his grief, and felt her heart break when she glimpsed the fact that no one had laid a loving hand on him since his wife had died a year before.

His wife—Andrea.

The enormity of his loss—a wife and soon-to-be-born daughter—was equal to that the pack was experiencing, although she knew some would argue the point. Once she might have agreed that the impact and devastation was worsened by the sheer number of those who had died, but since she also knew what it meant to love and need someone so utterly and completely that it consumed you, she realized they would be wrong. This man had lost the thing most important to him, as well as a part of him he had never been given the opportunity to know, to hold, to adore.

“You’d better start explaining.” Diskant tugged her away from the man and, in the doing, severed the connection between them, forcing her to grasp Diskant’s arm to keep balanced as he pressed into her space, his large body brushing against her. “Stop shutting me out. It’s disorienting, and I don’t like sensing your pain when I don’t understand what’s causing it.”

“I’m sorry, I knew you didn’t want anyone to know that I could read their thoughts or share yours and I wasn’t sure what to do. This was too important.” She expelled the words in a rush, keeping her voice low. “I only sought out the answers you requested, looking into Moses’ mind to see what they had planned for the shifters, Emory and Mary. I can’t see what I’m not searching for, and I wouldn’t have thought to look until I started reading Caden and realized there is so much more involved.”

Instead of answering any more of his questions, Ava opened the link between them and sagged in his arms as the horrific and heartbreaking images flashed through her mind.

Once again she smelled the stomach-churning rustiness of blood, urine, feces and decay. But it was nothing compared to the mental picture of the heavily pregnant woman who rested upon the floor, coated in the dried substances, her stomach shredded by what appeared to be raking claw marks. Her face had matching wounds that ran from her left temple and across, her nose entirely gone along with her upper lip. And sticking out of one of the wounds in her abdomen was a clearly visible hand that was tiny yet perfectly formed…

“Holy fucking Christ,” Diskant snarled and Ava felt him shift slightly, aware through their merging that he was studying the man—Caden—in an entirely different manner now.

“That’s not all.” She braced herself as she dredged up the rest, allowing Diskant to see everything. These images weren’t as graphic because she’d stopped once she’d learned the truth. It wasn’t necessary to witness the event in its entirety, not when the pieces were already presented for her to place together. For whatever reason—karma, serendipity or dumb fucking luck—Moses had been a part of the crew that killed Andrea Stone—Caden Stone’s wife.

“They never thought he could be a threat, not once they convinced him a shifter killed his wife. With the evidence they gave him, he never bothered to question them.”

Pulling away from Diskant, she looked at Caden. He wasn’t struggling anymore, sitting quiet and still as he listened to their conversation. He’d been killing shifters for months, vengeance and pain driving his actions, with little concern for the blood he’d shed. Now he thought about the people he killed and the memories merged with those of his deceased wife.

If we can get him to see the truth, she said to Diskant telepathically. You’ll be able to gain so much more than I can give you. He’s been inside their inner circle and knows things I wouldn’t possibly think to look for. She hesitated, projecting her intent, revealing just how vital the man could be in locating Mary, assisting Trey and aiding the pack. He could help you.

You won’t be able to convince him, and even if you could you probably shouldn’t. Diskant’s response was laden with sympathy and doubt. He’s a living dead man, Ava. He eats, he breathes, he exists but he’s not alive. There is nothing inside him that brings joy or peace. He’s driven by one purpose and one purpose only—to kill those responsible for ruining his life and avenge his wife and child. You won’t find a man inside him but a monster. That’s what he’s become.

What Diskant said was true and it made the weighty ache in her chest all the worse.

After everything he’s suffered, he deserves a chance. If he isn’t willing to listen after we offer him what he desires most, you can do what needs to be done.

Diskant’s fingers pressed into the softness of her hips. What are you planning?

This.

She slid from Diskant’s hold and faced the man whose eye was now swollen shut. Gone from his mind was the need to curse and spit at her, to lash out at her for who she was, a woman involved with a murdering animal. Now he was intrigued—cautious but definitely curious, which was a good thing. When she reached him she pulled the gag from his mouth and stepped back.

“Your wife was a reporter for The United Herald, wasn’t she? That’s how you met. She was investigating a story in Memphis and your paths crossed.”

“How do you know that?” His question gave her goose bumps, spoken in a tone so eerie she hesitated for a moment.

“Because I’ve seen what happened to her—what they did to her,” she answered and folded her arms over her chest. “I know how she died.”

“Don’t listen to anything she says.” Moses broke his silence, though his words were shaky. “She beds down with the damned willingly and will say and do anything to protect them.”

The rag in her hand was ripped away and Ava watched as Diskant walked to the Shepherd, grabbed a handful of hair at the base of his neck and shoved the cloth soiled with blood and saliva into his mouth.

“If we want your opinion,” Diskant said as he released Moses’ head with a hard shove, sending his chin into his chest, “we’ll ask for it.”

“Tell me.” Caden’s featherlight plea tore her eyes away from Diskant until her focus was entirely on him. The desperation in his face was heartbreaking, so damn agonizing it hurt to look at him.

“Be sure that’s what you want. Make absolutely certain this is something you need to see.”

“To see?”

“To see how she died, Caden.”

Ava was forced to sever any connection she shared with the grieving man at that point. It was too caustic, too overwhelming. Several emotions flickered across his face—anger, pain, fury—until he gazed up at her, determination etched in the firm set of his jaw and the glint in his eyes.

“Show me.”

“Bring him closer.” Ava glanced at Moses and indicated the place beside her.

Diskant stepped behind the chair, grasped the back until it balanced on two legs and dragged it across the distance. He stopped next to Ava and let go, waiting for her instructions. She took a deep breath. She had only attempted what she was about to do once with her mother and father. It hadn’t been an entirely pleasant experience, and she steeled herself.

“I can’t sever the connection once I start. You’ll have to make sure I don’t fall,” she whispered to Diskant as she extended her hands—one to Caden and one to Moses—and closed her eyes.

The moment she made contact with each man, her hands resting atop their heads, she opened a link between them, delving into their subconsciouses to access the memories within, sorting through each until she found the exact moment in time she sought before allowing their minds to merge.

Diskant caught her as she staggered, the horrific images no less difficult to stomach the second time around. Unlike before she couldn’t stem the flow of thoughts or refrain from delving too deeply, and was forced to relieve past events as if she were a participant rather than an observer. Moses’ hands became her hands, his eyes were those that guided her and his feet carved the path inside the dark kitchen containing a trapped woman who pleaded for her life and that of her unborn child.

Moses stared at Andrea as she retreated, his eyes following her movements inside the room from which there was no escape. The light from the moon shone through the lone window situated over the sink with flowing, lacy curtains as she passed. She stumbled over her feet, her protruding belly keeping her off balance, and fell to the floor.

A shadow appeared on the left, becoming larger until the form of another man came into Moses’ view. He was clothed from head to toe in black, his right hand gloved inside a mitt with large, clawlike extensions.

“You should have left when you had the chance.” A man’s throaty voice reverberated through the kitchen, echoing from behind Moses.

“Please,” Andrea begged, hands clutching her swollen abdomen. “I’ll leave. I’ll get my things and go. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“What about your husband?” the voice taunted. “Do you think the good detective will walk away without question? Do you expect us to believe he’s unaware of the hot news story you’ve uncovered?”

“He doesn’t know anything.” Andrea’s words were clogged with tears. “I never told him anything, I swear.”

“You’d better hope not.” The voice came closer until the man speaking stood at Moses’ other side. “Or he’ll be visiting you soon.”

Andrea’s eyes widened as she turned from the man speaking and faced the threat coming from her right. The shadowed figure draped in black with the clawed hand advanced, one foot front in front of the other.

Moses turned after the first blow landed, ripping through the softness of her stomach and shielding hands, sending blood splattering against the ivory-colored counters and cabinets. His nausea rolled through Ava, Caden and Diskant, his disgust and inability to process the death of an innocent too difficult to witness.

Moses rushed from the room, trying to block out the screams, desperate to make it outside. He hit the back door running, taking large strides toward the brush along the side of the house where he could empty his stomach. A mixture of vegetable soup and cornbread from dinner littered the ground as he heaved into the untrimmed foliage. He retched until there was nothing left to vomit, he was spitting drool and the muscles in his stomach protested.

By the time the last spasm had passed, leaving him gasping for breath, the screams from inside the house had stopped.

Murderer. The word resounded in Moses’ mind. Beating down on him, clamoring in his ears. Men of god didn’t kill women and children. Not even if they were a danger to his congregation.

It was a sin.

It was a breaking of the commandments.

Even if he didn’t kill the woman, whose only crime was to uncover information about his people—unearthing the secret life of Shepherds—he was equally guilty. He had guided the assassin hired to spill the blood that wouldn’t touch Shepherd hands but would stain it nonetheless, bringing them to Andrea Stone’s front door and then standing idly by as the life she was granted was snuffed, along with the soul who had never been gifted with his or her first breath.

The sound of the screen door opening and then slamming shut arrived before the steady crunch of gravel by stomping feet. Closer those steps came, and closer…

A firm hand grasped the shirt between Moses’ shoulder blades, forcing him upright, and he gazed into the face of the man he knew only as Mr. Pink. His appearance was deceptive. He looked every bit the educated and refined businessman, nothing at all like a vicious killer. His ink-black hair was smoothed back, his face carefully shaven and his suit immaculately pressed. Moses caught his terrifying black stare before promptly looking away.

Looking Mr. Pink in the eye was inviting death.

The hand at his back vanished and Moses staggered as he swiped the pads of his fingers across his mouth. The bitter stench of bile and stomach acid rose to his nose, causing his stomach to churn once more.

“Get your shit together.” Mr. Pink’s voice didn’t reveal anything about the man’s mood. “I want you to get in your truck, drive away and don’t look back. When you make it home tell your boss that the job he hired me for has been done to his satisfaction. I expect my money to be dropped off at the agreed upon location before the sun rises.”

Moses stumbled to his truck, parked alongside a glistening black Camaro, noting the full circular swell of the moon in the antique vehicle’s surface. He tore his eyes away as he climbed into the GMC that was equally old but not as well kept. The keys were waiting in the ignition, jangling together as the cabin shifted to support Moses’ weight.

As he started the motor and pulled away, he glanced into the rearview mirror. Mr. Pink stood there watching—in the same position Moses had left him…

The vision vanished and Ava pulled her hands away, severing the connection.

She would have fallen had Diskant’s arm not kept her steady, her legs liquid as water.

Damn it.

She wasn’t going to stay conscious for long. It had been too much and had required energy that she didn’t have. She gasped when Diskant bent over and swept her into his arms, situating her against his chest. Her lids flitted down as she fought off drowsiness and shook her head, peering at the men who had shared the past and now would come to terms with it.

Moses didn’t speak, his head bent so that his chin was pressed against his chest. The defensive position didn’t hide the tears streaming down his cheeks or the silent sobs that racked his body. Ava knew something that she hadn’t shared with Caden, something she’d sensed the moment she’d first pressed Moses’ mind. The Shepherd was laden with guilt, and had been even more so since his brethren had convinced the man investigating the murder of his wife that creatures were responsible for her death. It hadn’t been difficult. The crime scene was consistent with an animal attack. In an effort to test Moses’ worth, after gaining Caden’s trust Moses was placed alongside the man who was a constant reminder of the horrors he’d witnessed, a virtual demon hovering over his shoulder.

No amount of prayer eased his conscience. Nor did reassurances that he had done what was necessary.

Moses had hoped when the shifters attacked the vans armed to destroy them they would inadvertently end his misery, keeping his shame a secret. Now he knew he would die with the truth revealed, outed as who and what he was.

A murderer.

And murderers, as all Christians knew, burned for an eternity in hell.

Ava’s lids dipped and she shook her head again. When she opened her eyes she gazed at Caden. There were no tears. They had all been shed when he’d come home several days after the murder to find the decomposing body of his wife on the kitchen floor.

“How can I know you’re telling me the truth?” he asked quietly. “How can you prove this isn’t just another lie or trick?”

“I can’t.” She struggled to remain awake. “But if you’re willing to listen you can find out for yourself. No one here means you harm. They need you as much as you need them.”

“I’m not sure about all that but I’ll listen…for a price.” Caden’s steely gray eye narrowed as he turned from Ava and studied Moses, who kept his chin to his chest. There was more than death promised in that stare and the raw intensity forced her to look away.

“He’s yours,” Diskant said, his voice uncharacteristically deep and reflective. “The first person to suffer a loss is always the one given the first option to exact punishment. That’s our law. No one here will dispute it.”

Identifying the cause of Diskant’s shift in mood, Ava placed her hand over his heart and thought, No one can hurt me now. You’re here. We’re safe. It’s okay now.

And I intend for it to stay that way. I’ll never put you in harm’s way again. Not for anyone or anything.

Diskant had walked across the room toward the stairs when Caden’s low growl stopped him. “I want your word. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say and if the information is solid enough I’ll answer your questions. But in exchange you hand him over. Once the gloves come off he’s mine to do with as I please.”

Ava huddled into Diskant’s chest and lifted the protective mental barriers that kept Caden’s emotions—as well as Moses’—from washing through her. Her part was done. She’d promised to help the pack and now it was up to them to take what information she’d provided and use it to their advantage.

“He’s yours,” Diskant repeated and resumed his trek, calling over his shoulder, “No matter what happens from this moment forward, you’ll decide how he goes. I give you my word.”

“Thank you for choosing Delta. Enjoy your flight.”

Thomas accepted his ticket, nodded to the attendant and began the short walk down the narrow hallway littered with chatty passengers. When he reached the plane and was directed to his seat in first class, he pulled a box from his pocket before he placed his suitcase in the overhead compartment and sat down. People filtered past but he didn’t pay them any notice. His mind was on one thing and one thing only.

He opened the lid, revealing the key to his future. The locket shone as the overhead lighting struck the surface, the engraved lines prominent. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up at the attendant smiling down at him.

“Is that a gift for someone special?”

He returned her smile, closed the box and sat back. “You could say that.”

The second influx of passengers began boarding and when she turned to greet them Thomas gazed out the window and stared at the plane landing in the distance.

For years he’d existed in Ava’s shadow as the brother who could never do as well as the younger child—the consummate fuckup and deviant—while she was lavished with praise and adulation. It probably stemmed from DNA and genetics. After all, how much could you love a child if he or she wasn’t truly your own? Obviously not all that much.

If only her parents could see her now.

Even after he’d read the file he couldn’t believe that Ava was attached to a shifter—a goddamn werewolf—of all things. It seemed absolutely improbable, but in light of everything else, not impossible. Their parents had always been quirky, their habits perpetually secretive.

“Excuse me.”

Thomas turned from the window toward the brisk voice and found himself face-to-face with an obese man dressed in an expensive business suit. His rounded belly nearly made contact with Thomas’ shoulder as he struggled to put his carryon in the overhead compartment, the unsightly swell jiggling as he strained.

So much for the daydream he’d had of a beautiful, educated woman taking the empty seat beside him.

The oversized man eventually got his eggs in a basket and plopped his wide girth into the adjoining seat. He squirmed a bit, ensuring his weight distributed evenly, Thomas assumed, and went for the suitcase he’d placed on the floor. His heavy breathing reminded Thomas of a taxed pig, forced to make a run for it just prior to the slaughter.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” The attendant was forced to lean over the man seated in the aisle when he grunted and told her what he wanted. Then she turned to Thomas.

“No, thank you.” Thomas tried to provide a smile but produced a thin grimace instead.

A heavy vibration pulled his attention from the attendant and he lifted his hips to pull his cell phone from his pocket. The name on the small screen changed his grimace to a grin. Well, surprise, surprise. He pressed the small red key and waited until the phone shut off before sliding it back in his pocket.

There was no way for Aldon to know what he had, although now Thomas understood the strange man’s—the vampire’s—interest in him. It was rather fucked up, in retrospect. The bet he’d placed during a lengthy card game with Aldon had forced him to steal the locket from his unknowing sibling and sell it to Craig Newlander in the first place.

Serendipity was indeed alive and well.

A couple of layovers and he would be in a safe place in Mexico. The money he’d obtained from Ava for the cabin would allow him to live comfortably until he could put the locket on the market and wait until the highest bidder claimed their prize. Afterward he would take his fortune and relocate to a place he would never, ever be found. For once he would have the chance to start over, to live the good life, to become an important person who people turned to.

The captain’s voice came over the intercom and he relayed the weather they were due to pass through and the expected arrival time at their destination. Placing the locket inside his empty pocket, Thomas relaxed in his seat, closed his eyes and began dreaming of his bright, happy future.