Reclaimed (Wolf in Exile Part 4): Werewolf Shifter/Vampire Paranormal Romance (7 page)

T
wo Weeks
Later

T
hane didn’t expect
that he would stand in front of the UCON Council Heads again so soon under these circumstances. Yet, here he was, fully prepared to challenge whatever sentence they dished out this time.

Tonight, Thane had come here alone.

“And so we meet again…” Luxar stood up from his seat behind UCON’s ruling table.

All the other Heads followed. Silvano. Luka. Blanc. There was still one empty seat, and dread rolled through Thane’s stomach as he tried to subdue the sour memories about what the missing Council Head had been accused of.

All of the Council Heads sat back down in their seats after greeting Thane with brief eye contact and a simple nod.

“I received your orders to appear,” Thane said. “Although, I don’t have a body to present to you. My brother was cremated and buried as all shifters are.”

“Not to worry. I have the evidence that he is no more,” Luxar said. “Word travels fast in the vampire world as I’m sure you’re aware. It is so ironic that you stand before me now as one of us, when just over a month ago you were wolf.”

“I’ve accepted my fate. I am what I’ve become. There’s no going back,” Thane replied.

Luxar frowned. “Unfortunately not.”

“I didn’t bring Gavril to you alive. You stripped my Alpha title for the interim, yet I can’t reclaim it because of what I have become, so what punishment do you have in store for me now?”

“Who said anything about a punishment? It seems that you’ve successfully kept the knowledge about the illegal form of D996 out of the wrong hands—specifically the humans. You’ve also made contact with those that were affected and offered reparations.”

Thane nodded. “That mission is still ongoing, but I was able to seize all of Gavril’s assets, including all three compounds that he owned. All evidence has been destroyed, and there are no new accounts of this drug being distributed.”

“Gavril had a very bad reputation and did some atrocious things. None of which favors the objectives of the majority of our kind. Now the rogues have taken note, which is not exactly a good thing.”

Thane swallowed. “I am doing everything in my power to ensure that there isn’t a Gavril copycat. However, I’m working with limited resources.”

“What if we extended to you all the resources you need?”

“What do you mean?” Thane asked.

“Before Upir Lyons was killed in the raid on Gavril’s compound, he was in charge of representing shifters and reducing the rogue population. As you know, we found out that he was doing the exact opposite. He was funding Gavril’s interest in creating a new breed of rogues.”

“Well what does this have to do with resources?”

“I’ve called you here to offer you a seat on this ruling table. There is no one here currently that speaks for the shifter nation.”

Thane narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “But I am no longer a shifter.”

“Your sons will be.” Luxar smiled and arched one eyebrow. “You have the chance to make history here where Upir failed the shifters.” He waved his hand toward the empty seat. “Go on. Test out the seat if you like. If you want it, it’s yours. Who knows…maybe one of your sons will rule here one day.”

Speechless, Thane swallowed as a dry lump rose in his throat.

He maneuvered closer to the table. Luxar produced a document made of thick vellum-style paper with a written declaration to rule as a Council Head written in blood.

“You are among the oldest, wisest, and most loyal of our kind. I have no doubt that you are the right person for this highest level of honor. There are other candidates, but none of your caliber. I hope you accept, but I will regret it if you do not.”

“I’m humbled that you’ve selected me,” Thane said. “I know where my duty lies, so it’s with great honor that I accept this chance to represent my kind.” He took the fountain pen, pierced his vein to extract his own blood, and then signed his name on the document.

It was official. He was now a Council Head--the highest honor among their kind. He would represent shifters, vampires, and hybrids to the best of his ability.

Wolf in exile. An Alpha torn between Pack and family. Man at odds with his destiny. Vampire ready to make his mark on the world.

“It is done. Welcome, Thane Silex.” Luxar smirked. “And you thought this roadblock would bring nothing but turmoil to the Silex name. Your family’s legacy has only just begun.”

F
our Months
Later

K
alena followed
her intuition and found Thane sitting in the library at his desk. All the blinds were closed tightly. The curtains were untied and pulled shut over the windows. Except for a few lamps sitting on some end tables providing light, the room was dark.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she said quietly.

Thane glanced up and smiled. “I’ve been working on logistical matters all day. Not fun, but I need to get these things out of the way.” He placed his quill pen on the desk. “Did you have a great time at the spa with Tracy?”

She sauntered over to her mate, the love of her life. “I did. It was relaxing, just like she said. Can you spare a few moments?”

“I’ve been missing you all day, but I figured you’d get bored with sitting in the library with me another day while I oversee UCON matters,” he said.

“Not so much bored, but a little jealous that your eyes and hands are on your work instead of me.” She grinned.

“Ah, well, we’ll have to remedy that very soon then.” Thane pulled her between his thighs and grabbed her about the waist. “Why don’t we have dinner in bed tonight?”

“I like that idea.” She leaned down to share a long, passionate kiss with him.

When they parted, he bowed his head and kissed her growing belly. “How are my pups?”

“Very, very active.”

“I can’t wait to meet them, love,” he whispered.

“Me either.”

C
opyright © 2012 Ambrielle Kirk
, Amber Ella Monroe

Published by Obsidian Gem Publishing LLC

http://ambriellekirk.com

http://amberellabooks.com

ISBN-13: 978-1511649940

ISBN-10: 1511649941

First Edition. October 2012

T
his is a work of fiction
. The characters, places, incidents, and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or person, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

“Are you in…or are you out?”

Tamara glared at her fiancé. The demanding expression on Brad’s face was the same exact look he gave her when he wanted something. Only this time, no physical force followed. After all, they were surrounded by his partners in crime. He wouldn’t dare lift a hand to strike her around other people. Brad wanted no one to know how much of a coward he was.

Swallowing, she bit the corners of her lips. She’d waited for this opportunity for months. The chance to be free of the conniving bastard and the controlling dangerous life that he’d tricked her to lead.

Her plans were already in place. All she had to do was make one call and her contact would be waiting. She would be free from this life.

“Yes, I’m in.” Her voice came out on a hoarse whisper.

“A ride or die chick.” One of Brad’s friends chuckled. “What does a guy have to do to get one of those nowadays?”

Brad grabbed the duffel bag at his feet and grinned. “It’s an acquired skill.”

If they only knew. Brad Thatcher wasn’t the man he portrayed himself to be. Over the last ten months, he’d turned to heavy drinking each night. Then the verbal abuse turned into something much worse. She had something to show for being so vulnerable, the bruises on her skin. Now, she feared for her life. This situation had gone too far.

Tamara had never envisioned being with a man who seemed to thrive off of her pain. He was never going to get better. Her counselor had warned her of this. She’d even ticked off the list of warning signs to watch for in his behavior. Throwing jealous tantrums if she so much as looked at another man. Trying to control her every move and keeping her under lock and key. Verbal insults escalating into gripping her in the fit of rebellious rages. One after the other, the signs became clearer. Brad was an abuser. Of women, drugs, and alcohol. Yet she stayed.

Her heart pounded uncontrollably as she contemplated the consequences. If she failed this escape, there would be hell to pay and she might lose her life. The last time she threatened to leave him, he’d freaked out. She still had the marks on her neck to show for it.

“I need to use the bathroom before we leave.” Tamara looked to Brad for his approval.

“Ah man. We don’t have time for this.” Brad’s second sidekick yelled from the driver’s side of the vehicle. “We have to be at the museum during the shift change-over.”

Brad and his crew made their living as thieves. It was fast, easy money. They were bandits who ran from the law and walked on the edge. Her fiancé had hidden his shady side job from her while they dated. He’d painted himself to be the picture perfect husband-to-be, but he was a fake. Her normal boring life had been turned upside down.

It all started when he lost his job for money laundering. She stood by her man back then. Had even persuaded him to pursue other careers, but Brad had alternative motives. Things got out of hand, and soon her husband-to-be turned out to be the fiancé from hell. By the time she caught on, she was in too deep.

“I need to go,” she repeated in a harsher tone. She’d pay for acting out like this later.

“You better hurry.” Brad’s lips formed a taut line. He turned his attention back to his crew. “She’s the only one who can fit through the vent.”

As Tamara walked off to the bathroom in the back of the warehouse, they discussed strategy amongst themselves. After locking the door behind her, she retrieved a small cell phone from the sleeve of her boot. Her fingers shook as she flipped open the lid. Before punching in the numbers she’d remembered by heart, she exhaled.

Tamara paced the cramped space of the one stall bathroom, praying for Selene to pick up the phone. This was her only hope. Just when she thought her plans would backfire, her counselor answered the phone.

“Hello.”

The voice sounded groggy on the other end. At nearly two hours before midnight, she expected this much. She only hoped that Selene could still help her. It had been a while since she’d last spoken with the counselor.

“Selene,” she whispered into the phone. “It’s me. Tamara.”

There was a bunch a ruffling on the other end. “Tamara. I haven’t heard from you in three months. What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I’m ready.”

“Give me your location.”

“About ten miles south of Blue Hills, Virginia. Near an industrial area.”

Outside the door, she heard the van engine start. Brad shouted her name.

“Selene…I don’t have much time,” Tamara whispered into the phone with urgency.

“Wait. Let me get my laptop.” There was some fumbling on the other end. “I think I know where you are. Industry Park. Near the city. Shoot! I’m getting you out of there.” The sound of fingers tapping furious at the keyboard flowed through the phone line. “You are to board the next train out of the Westbed station. A man in a red cap will be waiting with your ticket.”

Each time she’d called Selene, they’d discussed her getaway. She’d chickened out twice before. The promise of a new beginning and identity seemed like the life change she needed, but the consequences if she failed this escape loomed in her conscience.

“How—”

Brad banged on the door. “Get your ass out here. Now.”

Tamara’s heart jumped and her voice lodged in her throat. Brad jiggled the door handle and pushed against it. It rattled on the frames.

She looked up at the small window. There wouldn’t be any escaping from here. Not even a small dog could pass through the bars.

Darting over to the sink, she turned on the faucet. “I’ll be right out. I’m just washing up.”

“Washing up, my ass.” Using the weight of his body, Brad burst through the doors.

Acting quickly, Tamara tossed the cell into the wastebasket under the sink.

He reached out and grabbed her by the forearm. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”

She flinched as he tightened his grip, pinching her skin. “I was just washing my hands.”

“You’re taking too long.” He led her out of the bathroom, practically pushing her towards the waiting van. After shoving her inside, he slid the door closed. “Let’s go.” He jumped into the passenger seat.

Tamara took a seat in the back of the van. Her palms stung, and she looked down to find her hands balled in tight fists. Violence wasn’t the answer. She wouldn’t dare stoop to that level. So many times she’d wanted to hurt Brad. She hated him—despised him for making her afraid to fight back.

She bent down and touched the hilt of the pocketknife hidden in her other boot to make sure it was still there. The cell phone was gone. Now she only had the knife to protect herself. Last time, she threatened to use a weapon on him, he’d laughed in her face. Said that she wouldn’t dare kill him. He thought this was a game. She’d come to the realization that Brad loved to taunt her. It turned him on to see her in pain. But how far would he go? How far would he go until she ended up dead in a landfill?

Tamara swallowed.

The smoke from Brad’s cigarette wafted to the back of van when he opened the window to flick the ashes away. In the other hand, he had a bottle of vodka. As he took a swig of the poison that fueled his rage, a sense of hopelessness consumed her and she squeezed her eyes shut. She was tired of his perilous ways. Tired of feeling like being imprisoned in a dreadful place.

No matter what he’d done to her, it pained her to see him throw his life away in exchange for quick money, drugs, and alcohol. She had to get out of this relationship. She wanted to get out now.

By the time they reached the city limits, Tamara’s hands ached from wringing them in fear and anticipation. Once she made a run for it, she would be alone in the world. All her big dreams had been crushed following the death of her parents. She’d become dependent on Brad, but what they had wasn’t love anymore. It was a relationship of convenience and abuse.

Brad slid the van door open, shattering her thoughts. She jumped down and her boots hit the pavement with a thud. The damp night air fueled her senses, and she breathed in deeply. She smelled her freedom, and she only had to act to gain it.

He handed her a small black drawstring bag. “You know what to do?”

“Cut the telephone line. Enter through the side vent,” she said, pulling the hoody over her head.

He grinned. “Good girl. Do it in ten minutes, top.”

Tamara nodded, and then pushed the start button on her stopwatch. She tossed the bag over her shoulders, and jogged behind a building. The museum was the next block over, but if she cut across behind an adjacent storage lot, it would take her half the time to get there. Then she’d have two minutes to report the break in to the cops. It had to be timed just right. Brad and his crew would have to be inside the museum and the police on the way before she hauled ass. Once the museum was under lock down, there would be no way out.

At the back of the building, she pulled a bobby pin from the bun secured at her nape and jimmied the lock. It gave way in a matter of seconds. The voices of the guards near the front of the building greeted her as the door swung open. She tiptoed inside, her heart about to burst from fear. Keys rattled and two doors slammed as the guards locked and secured the museum. They’d activated the security system, but she’d made it in just in time.

After unarming the system, she took the stairs down to the basement level, and entered a small office. There was a phone on the wall near the door exactly as Brad had told her. He and his crew had mapped out the entire museum and planned the burglary for several days. While they’d been planning to commit a crime, she’d been planning to execute her escape.

Tamara lifted the receiver with shaky fingers and punched the three digits that she should have used many times during her spats with Brad.

It rang once before an operator answered. “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

“I want to report a break-in,” Tamara whispered. “Hurry please.”

“Give me the location, ma’am.”

“Heritage Museum of Fine Arts.” She glanced down at her stopwatch. Shit! Brad would be waiting at the back door now.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

Tamara disconnected the call and raced toward the back of the museum. Her instincts proved to be correct. When she opened the back door, Brad and the other guy barged inside.

“What took you so long?” He nudged past her and shoved a bag into her arms. “You take the third floor. I’ll handle the safe.”

Tamara paused, but only for a moment. She didn’t want to give herself away. What she hadn’t planned on was him asking her to help with bagging stuff. Her plan was to escape from the basement while they worked, but now she was stuck inside.