Authors: Susan Laine
Switching the grip he had on the handle of the knife, Kieran misdirected his intention, and was rewarded with a huge gash on Slade’s cheek. The guy screamed in frustration and pain and attacked, running at Kieran like a madman.
He caught Slade’s knife hand in his own free hand and kicked the guy in the balls. As Slade grunted and doubled over in pain, Kieran cut the other strap of the vest off as well, causing the vest to flap down.
With a vicious murmur, Slade stormed forward, knocked his shoulder into Kieran’s chest and tackled him with sudden strength. They tumbled down to the ground, where they began rolling around as each tried to gain enough leverage to get the other off. Slade’s knife disappeared in the tussle since he used both fists to hit Kieran’s flanks, even though Kieran managed to block and deflect most of the blows with his arms.
Finally, Kieran was able to push Slade back for that extra inch that allowed him to stick his fist in the man’s diaphragm in a single punch, knocking the wind out of him, and land a blow on his bleeding cheek, which disoriented him. Violently, Kieran shoved the man off and jumped up without using his hands. Though shaking and blinking his blood-soaked right eye, Slade got up too, making a hasty, foolhardy move toward Kieran, whose knee landed in Slade’s gut, and he keeled over.
This time Kieran swung around like a dancer on the balls of his feet and struck with deadly accuracy, his knife now embedded to the hilt in Slade’s exposed, vulnerable neck. His groan withering, Slade fell forward to the ground, dead as a doornail.
Not waiting for the other mercenaries to ram him down, Kieran dove for Slade’s gun, lying on the dirty leaves, and he reached desperately for the cold metal of the handle.
Then there was a surprising amount of pain on the back of his head, a cruel throbbing kind of ache that spread throughout his body, like a stone cast into a rippling pond. Faintly, he knew he had been hit over the head with the barrel of a gun. It wasn’t a novel experience for him. Then colors flickered into shadow and light splintered into shards on darkness.
Kieran was unconscious before his body hit the dirt.
Chapter Six
“O
H
,
YOU
have done well, my dear. So very, very well.”
A man’s raspy, creaking voice brought Gabe out of the dark pit of unconsciousness. It was not a voice he recognized, but the admiration and awe were familiar enough. His head swam in dizzy confusion until his wolf within healed him, and his mind cleared of the haze in the blink of an eye. Yet he kept his eyes closed and his breathing sleep-shallow.
“I told you, Papa. Isn’t he just adorable?”
That sugary sweet sound, however, was immediately identifiable to Gabe. Victoria Adler’s flowery perfume took over his awareness, but only briefly. He pushed the sensations aside, seeking his mate’s scent, sound, or feel. Soon he smelled what he assumed was his mate’s natural odor, but he wasn’t close enough to touch him, to be certain one way or the other.
But then…. “He has been running around like a little untrained puppy, Vicki. You must scold him, or he will never be a proper husband to you.”
“Oh, Papa,” Victoria huffed indignantly, from the sound of it, in a pique. “He is a real man, good and proper. He would never hurt me.”
Gabe wondered what, if push came to shove, he would do with her. She was, after all, the enemy, his captor, and unfortunately, also his apparent bride-to-be.
“Well, I’m sure you’re right, my dear. But still, I’ll feel better when the minister says the words, binds the two of you in the holy bond of matrimony, and you are with child.”
“Oh, but Papa! What about our honeymoon?” Now she sounded like a child who had just had her favorite toy yanked out of her hands and was about to throw a temper tantrum to rival that of the gods.
The man, William Adler, scoffed. “There’ll be plenty of time for that tomfoolery once this is all aboveboard. He is not going anywhere, sweetheart. Now hush. I do believe our guest is awake.” William’s hoarse tone came closer, as did the sound of some sort of mechanism, and he spoke again. “Good morning, Mr. King. I’m afraid your little midnight run has, for the lack of a better phrase, run its course. Time to wake up and face the music. Why, I do not understand your obvious reluctance? I’ll have you know many distinguished men seek my daughter’s hand in matrimony, and you would abscond? How fundamentally rude. Did your parents teach you no manners?”
Gabe opened his eyes. The man was decrepit, hunched in a wheelchair, his stark black-and-white evening wear immaculate, but he was clearly disease ridden. His teeth had been whitened, but the underlying yellowing from smoking, and the constant wheezing from his lungs, told Gabe the man was sick, perhaps with lung cancer or some other deadly respiratory disease. There was still a trace of the strong man he had used to be within that frail shell, but the man now had either lost or abandoned his conscience. That much Gabe saw in those watery, dim blue eyes, almost veiled by the cascade of gray hair over his forehead.
“Who are you?”
The man grimaced and looked even sicklier. “Come now, Mr. King. Are we really playing something as ridiculous as twenty questions? I am William Adler. We have met before. Of course only one of us has had to endure the ravages of time.”
“It isn’t time that has ravaged you, Mr. Adler. That, I believe, is the result of your own choice to smoke.”
William bowed his head and coughed. “How perceptive of you.”
Gabe shifted in his position, noticing he was strapped to a metal chair with his hands behind his back in handcuffs. They were sitting in a study, a room with a heavy feel to it brought on by brown silk wallpaper and heavy brocade curtains. A rosewood desk, oak bookshelves, brown leather armchairs, and a cherrywood liquor cabinet all added to the rich, masculine ambience of the room.
In addition to himself in the chair, William Adler in his wheelchair, and Victoria Adler perched in a strikingly feminine pose against the desk, there were five other people in the room. Four of them were mercenaries—one of whom Gabe recognized as Deck, the mercenary leader—and the fifth was….
Kieran was awake and on his knees next to Deck, who stood a few steps away, out of touching range.
Smart man
. He tried to breathe through the panic as he saw the bruised, bleeding face of the man who was his mate. They had hurt him, badly. Gabe had the sudden compulsion to do bodily harm, even to the harmless-looking man in a wheelchair.
William followed Gabe’s gaze to Kieran who watched both of them intently with his blue-gray eyes—well, one eye since the left one was almost swollen shut. “Your, uh, savior, shall we say, is relatively unscathed, as you can see. Whether or not he stays that way is, of course, up to you, Mr. King.”
Gabe studied the wealthy old man before him. “Now that we’ve dispensed with the unpleasantries, Mr. Adler, how about you tell me why I’m really here.” His sharp gaze veered off to Victoria, but he only briefly scanned or acknowledged her. “Because I find it extremely unlikely that a man of your caliber would have taken on such a project just to find his daughter the husband of her dreams.”
Victoria looked confused. Her pretty forehead wrinkled. “Papa, what is he talking about?”
“Hush, Vicki. This does not concern you.” William didn’t soften his voice; it was all business now. He smiled, evidently pleased with Gabe’s discerning eye. “You are absolutely correct about me, Mr. King. I’m duly impressed.” He extended his hand in an expectant gesture, and one of the men in the room gave him a glass of brown liquid, from the smell of it expensive cognac. “You are here—” He sipped from his drink. “—to bite me.”
Gabe kept the surprise off his face. In nearly four hundred years, he had heard almost everything and had learned to not be too obvious with people whose motives were unclear. “Excuse me?”
“Daddy?” Victoria’s bafflement made her move off the desk and over to the wheelchair, and she placed her manicured hand on the back support, not quite bringing herself to touch him.
“Hush, Vicki,” William demanded in a tone expecting immediate obedience, and she clamped her mouth shut, but judging from the thin line of her lips, she was not satisfied with the way things were proceeding. Directing his words to Gabe again, he continued coolly, “I expect you to bite me, Mr. King, and bestow your gift of immortality upon me.”
Oh, no. Not one of those freaks
.
Keeping his tone low and calm, Gabe said slowly, carefully, “Other than your death, what would me biting you accomplish?”
William tossed a hand about, irritated. “Don’t be foolish, Mr. King. All I want is for you to make me like you. Then you, and even your rebellious friend over there, are free to go.”
“Daddy!” Victoria sputtered, angry, stepping back to take a better look at the man who was her father, but who was taking away what
she
wanted.
Slamming his fist on the armrest, William shouted, “You be quiet now, woman! I told you this does not concern you!” While Victoria was shaking in place, undecided, William continued in a more serene voice, “You are an Alpha of your pack. Once you bite me, I will be an Alpha too. Young and strong and fierce. Immortal.”
Damn
. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Adler, but I’m a Beta,
not
an Alpha. My father is the Alpha. And furthermore, a mere bite does not transform a human into a lycan. That is a myth and simply not how it works.” Aware that this was a negotiation for their very lives, Gabe still felt that the truth would serve best here. This man was, at the moment, misguided, but perhaps he wasn’t as far gone as his daughter seemed to be. Maybe he could reason with William. Reach the intelligent man he used to be before sickness had made him bitter and ruthless.
Gabe knew he had made a mistake the moment William’s stance changed and a hard, cold glimmer darkened his eyes. “You are in line to become an Alpha, yes?”
Hesitating, Gabe could not be dishonest. It just wasn’t his way. “I am one of his Betas, but even though I am the oldest child, these days the pack members vote for the successor. I am not automatically chosen.”
William’s face began to resemble a thundercloud. “What about biting?”
Gabe shook his head. “Wolves can bite without the bitten transforming into one of us. You see, the shift takes a ritual and a specific time to take effect.” This was both true and misleading, but Gabe was not about to admit that. “And it has to be voluntary for both participants, and it never will be on my part. I have never changed anyone against their will—or against my own. And….” Vacillating, Gabe exhaled a deep breath. “You are very sick and very old. The process is not without, um, its dangers. In your present condition the act could be fatal.”
“I would die anyway.” William gritted his teeth, and a coughing attack wracked his feeble body into tremors that died away slowly. “I am willing to take the risk. Just describe the rite, what is needed, and we will arrange….”
Now he was stalling for time. Gabe could
not
admit the truth, or they would die right here. But this tactic of temporizing wasn’t going to work much longer either. “We would have to wait until the next full moon.”
“Then we will wait.” William was adamant, like a diamond, and nothing was getting through. Gabe was dispirited and felt deflated.
“Bite him,” Kieran cut in suddenly, his voice gritty. “And tear his fucking throat—”
Deck stepped closer and struck Kieran on the side of his face hard, and Gabe felt the wolf within roar into life. “Shut up, thieving bastard.” Then he moved back to his former position.
“How tiresome,” William said, sighing, turning his gaze from the show back to Gabe. “Once and for all, Mr. King, will you bite me or not?”
Feeling like screaming his frustration, Gabe shook his head. “No. Not now, not ever.”
Enraged, William backed his wheelchair and said, “Then I have no more use for you.”
“What about this traitor?” Deck muttered vengefully, closing the distance between him and Kieran kneeling on the floor. “He betrayed us. We should be allowed to… discipline him in our way.”
Outraged, William harrumphed. “Do whatever you want with him!”
Deck’s grin widened, like the cat that ate the canary, as he dipped his head until he and Kieran were face to face. “Now we’re going to have fun with you, boy. And you are going to regret every wrong move—” Suddenly he sniffed the air, puzzled. “You smell weird.” Inching closer, he grabbed Kieran’s jaw and forced the man to tip his head back. His lips parted to pant a bit. Deck’s nostrils flared. “You smell of… spunk.”
Gabe felt a chill all the way down his bones.
God, please help us
.
Deck rose to stand upright and turned to look at Gabe with triumphant glee plastered all over his face. “Kieran here has sucked your dick. Funny. He didn’t use to be a fag before.” Deck even chuckled, and Gabe went tense all over, readying himself to pounce on the man. His vision blurred in preparation for the shift from man to wolf, his gums itched at the sting of fangs wanting to push through, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “That must mean he didn’t take you to get money off you. He did it because you… are his mate.” Cracking up, the mercenary laughed, and Gabe thought he would die of the hollow hopelessness within him.
“B-but… Gabriel is… is
my
mate….” Victoria spoke softly, whispering, confused and sad. She turned to look at her father. “You said he was meant for me.”
“Don’t be so stupid, you silly hussy!” William shook his head and gave her a look that spoke of disdain. “I honestly don’t know how you can be my child. Dumb as a doorknob.” Sighing, he looked at Gabe. “Well, if you’re not going to bite me, I’ll have to make arrangements to find another wolf to do that. An Alpha this time. No more mistakes. And I surely do not wish for a, uh, a homosexual in my household. So, as for you two….”
“B-but he will be my husband—” Victoria tried one more time, but was silenced.
“I will find you someone better, honey. I promise.” William’s conciliatory tone belied the cold glint in his eyes. “These men will take care of these two fornicators, and you will—”