Mate Claimed
Page 51
Eric wondered where Reid had obtained the skill, but he didn’t want to pry too much. Inside Faerie, Reid was able to make iron do whatever he wanted—making the metal change shape or form, or obey his will—which scared the hell out of the high Fae, who were weakened by iron. Reid couldn’t use his talent in the human world for some reason, but maybe it helped him manipulate locks and other things made of metal.
The door opened. Graham grabbed it and shoved himself inside without waiting for Eric. Eric followed him in closely, his senses straining, the beast in him ready to fight.
They found themselves in a room about twenty feet long and ten wide, with no windows but with doors on either end. The room was dark, but Eric’s Shifter sight took it in—two beds shoved lengthwise against the back wall, sinks next to each door, an island in the middle of the room holding another sink and cabinets.
Everything was white except the island, which was black with wooden cabinet doors. The pervasive odor was of antiseptic.
Eric flashed back to another white room, where he’d lain flat on his back on a hard bed, cuffs around his wrists, chains wrapping his lower limbs. Machines on the wall beeped with his vital signs, and six different tubes snaked into his arm.
People with nothing on their faces but mild curiosity stared down at him, not even bothering to take notes. All the while, Eric screamed.
Sudden pain cramped his body. He hugged his arm over his abdomen, letting out a grunt that sounded loud in the silence.
Graham swung around. “What is it?”
“Bad memories,” Eric said through clenched teeth.
Graham’s eyes narrowed. “Malfunctioning Collar, my ass. You’re weakening. How about if I take you out right now and put you out of your misery?”
Eric couldn’t answer, being caught in a spasm of pain.
Reid stepped to Graham and wound one long-fingered hand around Graham’s bicep. “How about if I teleport us to the top of the tallest building in town and then drop you?”
Graham stared at Reid for a time, reassessing him. “Dokk alfar? Okay, Warden, so now I know why you let him hang out with you. You all right? Or are you going to pass out on me?”
The pain receded a bit, and Eric straightened. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been in a place like this before,” Graham said, giving him a shrewd look.
“Worse than this.” There weren’t nearly as many machines here, or the smell of as many chemicals.
Graham looked around the room, then back at Eric. “Fucking humans.” He walked to the door on the left wall and waited for Reid to unlock it for him.
Eric knew they should check every building and figure out what was going on here, even after they found the wolves, but he didn’t relish the thought. The ghost of pain past was still haunting him, and he wanted out of here as soon as he could.
When Eric caught up to Graham and Reid, they’d entered the next room, which was identical to the one they’d left except that a large cage stood against the wall. The fear smell from the cage overpowered the antiseptic smell that tried to cover it—sweat, blood, a hint of urine. Eric remembered Jace’s report of the empty cages being brought into the compound by jeeps—they must have used these to transport the Shifters here once they’d taken them off the buses.
Graham’s scent betrayed raw anger. “They were here,” he said. “My wolves.”
Reid looked around. “They couldn’t have put twenty of them in here. Probably used rooms up and down this row. But there’s no one here now.”
Graham swept his strong arm across the center counter. The curved faucet of the sink broke and clattered to the floor. No water came out of the broken tap—the water must have been shut off as well.
“Where are they?” Graham roared. “Where the hell are they?”
“Alive,” Eric said.
Graham rounded on him. “How do you know that?”
“No smell of death. They were here, they were scared, but they were taken away again. Not killed.”
“Taken away where? And why are the cages still here?”
“Fuck if I know. But we’ll find them.”
Eric tried to keep his voice calm, but he wanted to rage as much as Graham did. Experiments on Shifters were forbidden now, and no one, no one touched the cubs. Didn’t matter that they were Graham’s Shifters, or Lupine Shifters. Eric tasted the need to find and slaughter whoever had frightened those cubs.
Graham’s Collar started to spark. He was about to go on a rampage. Eric shared the urge, but if they tore up the place, humans would figure out that they’d been there, and the Goddess knew what they’d do—to the Shifters they’d already taken, to Shifters in general.
Before he could tell Graham to take his ass back outside, Eric’s cell phone vibrated. He yanked it out of its holder.
“Brody. What?”
Eric listened to Brody’s excited and garbled words, then said, “Fine. We’re coming,” and hung up.
He looked up to find Graham an inch away, the man fully in his space, Graham’s breath fanning Eric’s face.
“Got them,” Eric said. “Brody’s found them—on a highway not far from here. We need to get there. Reid?”
Eric hated what would come with the teleport back to the motorcycles—the dizziness, the nausea—but as Reid grabbed Graham first, Eric had the satisfaction of watching Graham’s eyes widen in sudden, pure terror.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Eric slowed his motorcycle when he saw the bus canted off on the side of the road and surrounded by Shifters, both Eric’s and Graham’s. He also recognized the large pickup in front of the bus that belonged to Xavier Escobar.
Graham pulled up alongside Eric and killed his Harley’s engine. Eric didn’t stop Graham leaping off his bike and running to the bus’s open door.
“Tell me what happened,” Eric said to Brody, who came forward to meet him.
“We didn’t do this,” Brody said, indicating the bus that was half-sunk into the road’s soft shoulder. Brody looked much like Shane, with black and brown hair and dark eyes, but Brody, a little younger, wasn’t as restless as his older brother. Brody was Eric’s tracker, but Shane worked for Nell, his mother, though Nell lent Shane to Eric much of the time. “Not on purpose, anyway,” Brody went on. “When the driver saw us following him, he panicked and ran off the road. I decided to hold him here and wait for you.”
The door opened. Graham grabbed it and shoved himself inside without waiting for Eric. Eric followed him in closely, his senses straining, the beast in him ready to fight.
They found themselves in a room about twenty feet long and ten wide, with no windows but with doors on either end. The room was dark, but Eric’s Shifter sight took it in—two beds shoved lengthwise against the back wall, sinks next to each door, an island in the middle of the room holding another sink and cabinets.
Everything was white except the island, which was black with wooden cabinet doors. The pervasive odor was of antiseptic.
Eric flashed back to another white room, where he’d lain flat on his back on a hard bed, cuffs around his wrists, chains wrapping his lower limbs. Machines on the wall beeped with his vital signs, and six different tubes snaked into his arm.
People with nothing on their faces but mild curiosity stared down at him, not even bothering to take notes. All the while, Eric screamed.
Sudden pain cramped his body. He hugged his arm over his abdomen, letting out a grunt that sounded loud in the silence.
Graham swung around. “What is it?”
“Bad memories,” Eric said through clenched teeth.
Graham’s eyes narrowed. “Malfunctioning Collar, my ass. You’re weakening. How about if I take you out right now and put you out of your misery?”
Eric couldn’t answer, being caught in a spasm of pain.
Reid stepped to Graham and wound one long-fingered hand around Graham’s bicep. “How about if I teleport us to the top of the tallest building in town and then drop you?”
Graham stared at Reid for a time, reassessing him. “Dokk alfar? Okay, Warden, so now I know why you let him hang out with you. You all right? Or are you going to pass out on me?”
The pain receded a bit, and Eric straightened. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been in a place like this before,” Graham said, giving him a shrewd look.
“Worse than this.” There weren’t nearly as many machines here, or the smell of as many chemicals.
Graham looked around the room, then back at Eric. “Fucking humans.” He walked to the door on the left wall and waited for Reid to unlock it for him.
Eric knew they should check every building and figure out what was going on here, even after they found the wolves, but he didn’t relish the thought. The ghost of pain past was still haunting him, and he wanted out of here as soon as he could.
When Eric caught up to Graham and Reid, they’d entered the next room, which was identical to the one they’d left except that a large cage stood against the wall. The fear smell from the cage overpowered the antiseptic smell that tried to cover it—sweat, blood, a hint of urine. Eric remembered Jace’s report of the empty cages being brought into the compound by jeeps—they must have used these to transport the Shifters here once they’d taken them off the buses.
Graham’s scent betrayed raw anger. “They were here,” he said. “My wolves.”
Reid looked around. “They couldn’t have put twenty of them in here. Probably used rooms up and down this row. But there’s no one here now.”
Graham swept his strong arm across the center counter. The curved faucet of the sink broke and clattered to the floor. No water came out of the broken tap—the water must have been shut off as well.
“Where are they?” Graham roared. “Where the hell are they?”
“Alive,” Eric said.
Graham rounded on him. “How do you know that?”
“No smell of death. They were here, they were scared, but they were taken away again. Not killed.”
“Taken away where? And why are the cages still here?”
“Fuck if I know. But we’ll find them.”
Eric tried to keep his voice calm, but he wanted to rage as much as Graham did. Experiments on Shifters were forbidden now, and no one, no one touched the cubs. Didn’t matter that they were Graham’s Shifters, or Lupine Shifters. Eric tasted the need to find and slaughter whoever had frightened those cubs.
Graham’s Collar started to spark. He was about to go on a rampage. Eric shared the urge, but if they tore up the place, humans would figure out that they’d been there, and the Goddess knew what they’d do—to the Shifters they’d already taken, to Shifters in general.
Before he could tell Graham to take his ass back outside, Eric’s cell phone vibrated. He yanked it out of its holder.
“Brody. What?”
Eric listened to Brody’s excited and garbled words, then said, “Fine. We’re coming,” and hung up.
He looked up to find Graham an inch away, the man fully in his space, Graham’s breath fanning Eric’s face.
“Got them,” Eric said. “Brody’s found them—on a highway not far from here. We need to get there. Reid?”
Eric hated what would come with the teleport back to the motorcycles—the dizziness, the nausea—but as Reid grabbed Graham first, Eric had the satisfaction of watching Graham’s eyes widen in sudden, pure terror.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Eric slowed his motorcycle when he saw the bus canted off on the side of the road and surrounded by Shifters, both Eric’s and Graham’s. He also recognized the large pickup in front of the bus that belonged to Xavier Escobar.
Graham pulled up alongside Eric and killed his Harley’s engine. Eric didn’t stop Graham leaping off his bike and running to the bus’s open door.
“Tell me what happened,” Eric said to Brody, who came forward to meet him.
“We didn’t do this,” Brody said, indicating the bus that was half-sunk into the road’s soft shoulder. Brody looked much like Shane, with black and brown hair and dark eyes, but Brody, a little younger, wasn’t as restless as his older brother. Brody was Eric’s tracker, but Shane worked for Nell, his mother, though Nell lent Shane to Eric much of the time. “Not on purpose, anyway,” Brody went on. “When the driver saw us following him, he panicked and ran off the road. I decided to hold him here and wait for you.”
