Bailey Bradford - Southwestern Shifters 06 - Reverence (2 page)

There came a point where you just had to either accept certain facts, like you were batshit crazy, or reality wasn’t what you’d always believed it to be. Harley Johansen was still trying to figure out which of those truths applied to his situation. He was leaning unwillingly towards the latter and, honestly, he thought he’d have preferred to just be insane. Somehow it wouldn’t be as scary as having to accept the existence of supernatural things.

Like werewolves. Freakish things, they changed from people, contorting and twisting around until they were beasts. Harley had seen it happen numerous times since he’d been abducted from his crappy little apartment in Sedona weeks ago. Granted, it’d been men who had grabbed him then. His own fault there, for being a total slut. He’d been lonely and, as he often did in such a case, he’d gone out and brought home someone he’d hoped would help chase off the sense of isolation, of being nothing in the world.

What a fucking idiot!
Harley smacked his hand against his forehead. Again. There ought to be a dent in his skull from him doing that. Maybe if he did it often enough, he’d jar something loose in there, like some previously hidden stash of common sense. He’d been warned before that bringing strangers home was a stupid, dangerous thing to do. Well,
duh!
Hadn’t one of the people who warned him of that been a fucking werewolf himself?

Not that Harley had known his trick a month or so ago was a freak. Alex had seemed really hot. Lost, too, like Harley often felt. And the guy had fucked Harley like a dream. Then he’d left the next morning and Harley had gone on with his life. He hadn’t mooned over Alex, but had remembered the sex pretty fondly. Alex had done nothing to get him involved in the mess he was now in, nothing to be exposed to an altering of his reality that had nearly cost him his sanity. Maybe still would, because sometimes he just wanted to curl up in a ball and rock and cry, like—

“No!” Harley wrapped his arms around himself and huddled bent in the chair. He wouldn’t give up and let the monsters that had him win. Granted, they wanted him to believe they were the
good
monsters, as opposed to the ones that had taken him in the first place. But as far as Harley was concerned, they were all fucking psychotic monsters, unnatural creatures that weren’t man or beast exactly, but a frightening blend of both.

As if thinking about them brought them to him—and it might have, Harley had no idea what powers the damnable things might possess—there was a sharp rap on his door. The fear Harley lived with every day spiked higher, right on up to slap his temper awake. Being scared often made him angry, and now was no exception.

Harley uncrossed his arms and pushed up from the chair with enough force that the chair tipped over. He almost felt bad—it was a very nice chair and he hoped he hadn’t broken it. Then again, the rooms he was kept in were nice, period. Warm, homey, tastefully decorated—if his apartment in Sedona had looked like this he’d have never left, or at least not often.

Unfortunately the beauty and comfort of his current dwelling had nothing to do with why he didn’t leave it. That reason was because of the jackass still banging on the damned door. Whichever jackass it was. Harley didn’t want to discriminate—all of the werewolves were scary. They were even scarier when they acted so…so fucking human.

Harley gripped the doorknob and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Who is it?” It wasn’t time for lunch, as breakfast had been less than an hour ago, so Harley knew it wouldn’t be Anya standing on the other side of the door. And it wasn’t laundry day, so not Craig, either.

Harley closed his eyes and sagged against the wall. Of course it’d be Marcus, and probably his boyfriend or whatever Nathan was called. He’d yet to have one visit without the other, and Marcus in particular never failed to make Harley nervous. He detested being nervous almost as much as he hated being scared, so he generally ended up being either extremely bitchy or utterly silent when Marcus and Nathan showed up. He didn’t know how else to deal with his emotions or the waves of power he could feel coming off Marcus. Even if Harley hadn’t heard Marcus described as the Alpha Anax—or the Alpha of all Alphas in North America—he’d have known Marcus was The Boss. The man exuded a dynamic authority that Harley had never seen in anyone else before.

Which was why Marcus was so intimidating, and why Harley was even angrier around him.
“What do you want?” Harley grumbled, hoping his unwanted visitors would go the fuck away. He just knew one day he’d let one of the beasts in and end up torn into pieces for it. After all, what need did they have of him? He was just a stupid, puny human who had a head full of fucked up.
“Harley, open the door, please.”
Yeah, Marcus said please, but he growled the entire sentence out and Harley had turned into one big frickin’ goose bump. Did he
really
want a pissed-off werewolf—make that two pissed-off werewolves, because he could hear Nathan muttering on the other side of the door—anywhere near him?
“We need to discuss your return to Sedona.”
Harley straightened up and frowned at the door, as if it, and not Nathan, had spoken those words. They were going to let him go home? Back to Sedona? After keeping him here for weeks, in their weird wolf compound, he could finally, maybe, if he believed them and they weren’t fucking with him, he could go home?
It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? That odd twinge in his gut was just gas, not regret at the thought of going home. Why wouldn’t he want to return to the normal world? Harley didn’t know any more if he wanted to return to his apartment, but he knew he sure as hell didn’t want to stay here. His apartment in Sedona, however, would never feel like a safe place again, but that was beside the point. Harley had to keep the place, crappy as it was. He’d never find anything else that cheap, and coming up with the first and last month’s rent for a new place would be impossible. Hopefully he’d be able to get a job quickly and pay the rent that was past due.
“When?” he asked.
“When what?” Marcus snapped back. “Open the damn—open the door so we can talk like reasonable adults, Harley.”
“Reasonable?” he heard Nathan say. “Really, Marcus, if you didn’t growl and snarl, maybe Harley would act reasonably too. Perhaps you have to set the example, being the Alpha Anax and all.”
Harley knew they knew he could hear them, and it irked him, but Nathan’s prodding worked. He didn’t need someone else to show him how to behave rationally. Harley unlocked the door and opened it then hurried over to the table in the kitchen. As soon as Marcus entered the small set of rooms, the entire place seemed to shrink. It wasn’t just that Marcus was huge, tall and brawny, blond and—well, the blond had nothing to do with it, really. But as soon as Marcus came in, Harley could feel the power surging off him. Harley wanted to drop to the floor and whimper, which was ridiculous. The very urge just pissed him off.
He backed away until he smacked the kitchen countertop with his hip, then Harley casually placed a hand on the smooth marble surface. Not a foot away was a knife block stocked with shiny, sharp blades. Harley usually stood right where he was when any of the werewolves came in, so it wasn’t as if he was acting out of character. And really, he doubted the knives would do him much good if one of the beasts decided to attack him, but still. He at least had the illusion of being safer.
Marcus sighed and held out his hand to Nathan, his smaller partner. Whereas Marcus was big and scary, Nathan was shorter by several inches, maybe even a foot or more, and he had long, long red hair. Both men were incredibly attractive, yet Harley wasn’t turned on by them at all. In fact, his libido seemed to have died since he’d been abducted. He didn’t even miss it at this point.
Nathan pulled out a chair and sat, as did Marcus. Harley remained standing, trying not to be sullen but it was impossible. He hated these men, beasts, wolves, whatever. An image of the wounded man flashed before his eyes. Harley bit his tongue to keep from asking about him, just as he’d refused to ask for weeks now. He was kind of scared the guy might have died, and yeah, that made his chest ache, which was dumb. He didn’t care about any of these monsters. He hated all of them. Even Alex, sometimes maybe more than the others. If Harley hadn’t hooked up with Alex, then Alex’s enemies wouldn’t have hunted him down and absconded with him in the hopes of using him as a pawn in some demented power struggle. Harley wasn’t entirely clear on what it had been about, other than the sick fuck who’d taken him, Joshua Dobson, had wanted to kill Alex, and Marcus, and Nathan, and just about everybody, and Joshua wanted his brother Sean back and
that
had seemed like a sick obsession but—
“I’ve decided you can return to your apartment as soon as you want to.”
Harley flinched at Marcus’ words. He gaped for a few seconds then realised his mouth was hanging open—which always made him look like an idiot, but then again, who didn’t look like a moron when they were gawping—and he snapped it shut. Surely Marcus didn’t expect an answer? Harley rarely spoke to him or anyone face to face here.
Marcus looked at Nathan, almost pleadingly, it seemed to Harley, but what did he know? He averted his gaze and studied his bare toes instead. He was glad he didn’t have long monkey toes like his brother Ryder did. And why was he thinking about his toes? Because it beat wondering about the people sitting at his table. Almost as much as he feared them because of what they were, Harley was afraid he’d see them more as humans than beasts and… And, well, he didn’t know what, except it seemed safer to keep away from them in all ways possible.
“Harley.”
He reluctantly looked up at Nathan. The man was really very pretty, with that pale skin and red hair, and eyes a greenish colour. Harley gave himself an internal shake. What the fuck did it matter what Nathan looked like, or any of the other wolfy folks here?
Nathan’s nose twitched like he smelt something funky and he stood up and slowly walked over to Harley, watching him the entire time.
“Has anyone from our pack hurt you in the time that you’ve been here, Harley?” Nathan stopped so close to him he could smell the man. They were almost the same height— Harley had him by maybe two inches—but Harley felt like he was looking up at Nathan, which was stupid. It was a psychological reaction, one he experienced because he knew Nathan had the power, or, at least, a hell of a lot more power than he did. Harley finally gave up and went back to looking at his toes. At least the nails were nice and tidy.
“Harley—”
“I know my damned name!” he snapped, surprising himself as well as Nathan, who took a quick step back. Harley heard a growl and was instantly contrite, but still very pissed off about so many things. “Don’t kill me! It’s not my fault I’m going nuts here! You—” He pointed at Nathan, who looked torn between amusement and pity. “And you—” He tried to glare at Marcus but couldn’t quite look him in the eye. “All of you here are…are monsters! How can I—I can’t—it’s—Argh!” Harley shouted and threw his hands up. He tipped his head back and hollered again just because it felt good to release some of the chaotic emotions swamping him.
He might have yelled some more had someone not touched his hand. Harley yelped and jumped to the side, banging his hip against an open drawer. “What? Don’t!” He tried to avoid Nathan but the man seemed determined to touch him again. “Stop it!”
Nathan caught his hand and held it. “Calm down, Harley. Look at me. Look. At. Me.”
Harley tried not to. His heart was bouncing off his ribs and his stomach was boiling with nerves and fire, and he really, really just wanted to wake up and have these past weeks have only been a nightmare.
Please, please, please God, if You’re listening at all…
But of course no one was listening to Harley, and he couldn’t hold out any longer, so he slitted his eyes open enough to see Nathan frowning at him. The guy looked worried, but Harley couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.
“Marcus, maybe you should let me and Harley talk for a little bit, alone.”
Oh fuck, Nathan could read his mind, right? That had to be how Nathan knew Marcus just set every one of Harley’s nerves on edge. He simply couldn’t handle the alpha vibes or whatever it was Marcus gave off. It freaked him out too much.
Marcus muttered words Harley couldn’t make out, which was probably a good thing, but he did at least get up and leave.
“Better?” Nathan asked him.
Harley started to say no then stopped himself. He took a couple of breaths, and it seemed to him there was more room, less tension, something. Damned if he knew what it was exactly, but the overall effect was better.
Nathan chuckled and patted Harley’s hand. “I’ll take that as a yes. I know you don’t like us, and I can understand, really, I do. But…” Nathan curled his hand around Harley’s and led him into the living room. He stopped at the couch and sat, still holding Harley’s hand and effectively pulling him down to the couch as well. Nathan tucked a finger under Harley’s chin, and he couldn’t help it, he jumped even though he saw Nathan reaching for him. Nathan tipped Harley’s head up until Harley gave up and looked him in the eyes.
Harley wanted to cry then, just sob and curl up and let Nathan, or someone not Marcus, hold him. Let them lie and tell him everything was going to be all right, but nothing had ever been all right in the first place, had it? Still, it’d have been nice to hear. But Harley wasn’t weak, and he sure as hell didn’t trust Nathan or any of the other people…werewolves, here.
It was hard to think of Nathan as anything other than a person, at least right now. He didn’t look like a monster. Then again, what monster did? And weren’t human monsters equally as bad as these wolf-monsters? There were humans who did horrendous things and—
Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it! Quit humanising them. Stop thinking these werewolves aren’t half bad. They’re fucking vicious, sadistic bastards.
Nathan watched him, and Harley’s brain wouldn’t shut up, because something he suspected was his conscience started lecturing him about being a judgmental asshole.
Well, his conscience could go fuck itself. He’d seen what these creatures could do. Harley yanked his hand back and scooted away, but he kept his gaze on Nathan’s. “What do you want?” Harley swallowed down a tidal wave of panic. It was growing to be a common experience around the werewolves. “I don’t understand why I’m here.”
Nathan actually blushed slightly and fidgeted with his hair. “Well, can you try to see our side of things? We didn’t know what else to do. You’re not… Obviously you aren’t like us, and we, for reasons I am sure you can understand, I think—we don’t really want to have our existence exposed to society as a whole.” Nathan shuddered. “Can you imagine what would happen to us? Very, very few humans know there are shifters walking amongst them. My father knows, or the man I consider my father, anyways. Thank goodness for that, because I used it as an argument against turning you.”
Harley’s stomach dropped into a pit of ice. “T-turning me?”
Oh my God! He can’t mean…
“Into one of you?”
Nathan rolled one shoulder as if to shrug off Harley’s increasing upset. “What are our alternatives? Trust you not to say a word, turn you, or kill you. That’s about it, right?”
Harley gulped and swiped at a bead of sweat that seemed to sprout from nowhere to run down his temple. He’d actually expected to be killed for the very reason Nathan mentioned, so he couldn’t expose them, but hearing it said, and so casually, it just—he didn’t know how to handle it.
“I, of course, vetoed the killing and changing you options,” Nathan said, splaying a hand on his chest. “Actually, no one wanted to kill you. We aren’t like that, but it was brought up, more for shock value I think than anything else.” Nathan seemed to realise Harley was about two seconds from having a total meltdown. “Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that part. I tend to run off at the mouth, as they say, whoever ‘they’ is. I mean, I can babble, like now. Harley.”
Nathan sighed and kind of slumped where he sat. “I’m fucking this whole thing up. I shouldn’t have sent Marcus out, he’s the AA and he could have made you understand.”
“No!” Harley jumped in before Nathan did something like, well, like having Marcus come back in here. “I’m sorry.” And why was he the one apologising? He’d done nothing to deserve this shit. But he needed to hold on to his temper if he really was going to have the opportunity to go home.
Calm yourself, fool!
Harley willed his pulse to stop racing and his mind to do the same. By the time Nathan looked at him he thought he kind of had it together.
Ish
.
“Okay, I’ve been upset, but who wouldn’t be?” Harley tried to organise his words, but they just poured out. “I mean, one night I hook up with this hot guy who fucks like a machine, we have fun. He warns me, by the way, warns me about the dangers of bringing home strays. Whatever, I think. And I do it again and…and I’m kidnapped, beaten, abused! Nathan—” Harley stood up and couldn’t keep the bite of anger from his voice. “Do you know how many times Joshua Dobson threatened to kill me? He’d have one of his guards shift and snap at me, nip me. Once he even h-had one—”
Harley clamped his lips together, biting them as hard as he could stand. He wasn’t going to tell this man, a freak like all the others here, how Joshua Dobson had told one of his guards to shift and mount Harley. Harley had never, ever been so terrified in his life as when he’d had that huge beast on him. Everyone had been laughing, and the wolf had growled, bitten at him. Harley had passed out, whether from the fear or the weight of the body on him or both. When he’d come to, he’d still been clothed, and his ass wasn’t sore, so he was sure he hadn’t been raped. Physically, at least. Mentally, just like emotionally, he’d been violated.
Nathan stood as well and moved slowly to stand right in front of him. Harley noticed Nathan looked tight around the eyes, like invisible fingers were pinching his skin. He didn’t know what it meant, though. “Harley, what did Joshua have his guard do?”
Harley realised Nathan assumed the worst. “Not…not that. He didn’t.”
Nathan didn’t look relieved. Instead, he just appeared to be upset. His eyes were shiny in a way Harley’s got when he was fixing to cry, but he knew that couldn’t be the case for Nathan. He didn’t even know Harley, so why should he give a shit what happened to him?
“Anyway,” Harley continued, turning to stare at the clock on the far wall. “Every minute with him was hell. I never knew if I was going to be alive the next moment, the next hour, the next day. Who could blame me for hating every single fucking one of you?” Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t fair, but it was how he felt. Maybe, given some time away from the constant gnawing fear, he’d gain a better perspective. As it was, he barely slept, waiting for a werewolf to sneak in and tear his throat out, something he’d seen happen to other wolves and people and would never, ever forget. “Who can blame me for being scared?”