“Yes,” Father said. “We’re all grateful for the help we’re receiving from Alpha Reynolds. All of the Alphas agree that we need to keep as much information as possible from the general population, in order to prevent gossip and speculation, which could easily lead to panic.”
“How much are we releasing?” Rook asked.
“For now, we’re admitting to the vampire-loup hybrids. They aren’t unheard of in the history of our peoples, and considering the speed at which they move and the efficiency with which they kill, attempting to hide it is futile. And it allows our people to be prepared in case another attack occurs.”
“What about Fiona?”
Knight’s attention traveled to Brynn. She sat hunched in one of the library’s leather smoking chairs, head down, seeming to listen without participating in the conversation. If he’d known her well enough to guess, he’d think she was meditating.
“That’s not up for discussion beyond the people here and the enforcers who noticed the Magus scent at Stonehill,” Father replied. “For now, no one else is to be told. It will be difficult enough for folks to accept the idea of three vampire hybrids alive today. No one, to the best of our combined knowledge, has ever heard of a Magus-loup offspring.”
And now there are two of them
.
Two of them about the same age, with the same black hair and pale complexion. He’d have suspected them of being sisters, if not for the fact that every Magus he’d ever seen or seen a photograph of looked exactly the same—black hair, pale skin. As though they all descended from the same gene pool—which wasn’t entirely incorrect, considering how few Magi existed in the world. The simple fact that Brynn had loup blood told them that someone in her family tree had once conceived a child with a White loup garou—the largest variable was which family member and how many generations ago.
The family connection they needed to worry about most was that of Shay and the vampire triplets—everything they had in the way of information said that Shay’s missing mother, Chelsea Butler, was their biological mother, as well.
He desperately wanted to go over to Dr. Mike’s and visit her—and Devlin, too—but he had to endure this exercise first. Bishop, Rook, Jillian, and his father discussed a few security-related items that Knight found as interesting as a bowl of sand: auctions for the next two weeks will be canceled, enforcers will patrol the woods at night in full beast shift. Useful information, perhaps, but it took all of his concentration to stand there and not fidget. His agitation would just fuel the moods of everyone around him, and it was his duty to keep
them
on an even keel. Never an easy task to start with, the job had gotten twenty times more difficult since last night.
He didn’t notice the conversational topic change until Jillian and Bishop stood up. Brynn did, too, more reluctantly, and the trio left, shutting the library door behind them. Rook didn’t protest Brynn’s leaving, so Knight knew he’d missed something important while he was lost in his own thoughts.
Father and Rook hadn’t moved from their spots on the sofa. Time for the questions.
Knight stayed by the window. He preferred this indirect line of sight. It negated the need to look anyone in the eye.
“Rook, Knight,” their father said. “I need to ask each of you something, and I promise that nothing you tell me leaves this room without your permission.”
Knight’s pulse jumped. He stared at the side of a walnut bookcase and studied the grain of the wood.
“Okay,” Rook said.
“Normally, I wouldn’t be so blunt about this, but given the violent nature of these half-breed women, the length of time you were both alone with them, and the potential consequences . . .” Father cleared his throat before continuing, a nervous gesture he rarely fell back on. “Rook, during your captivity, were you sexually assaulted?”
Rook answered fast. “No, sir. Victoria made some comments and touched my face a few times, but that was it. All of their assaulting was on my hands, throat, and fingernails.”
The flip finish did nothing to quell the simmering fury that struck Knight each time he remembered Rook tied to that chair, his body wracked by silver poisoning, helpless to stop whatever the Psycho Siblings decided to do to him. And the shame that all of it had happened to Rook because of Knight only fueled his anger. His empathy shields fell and worry hit him from both his father and his brother.
He didn’t realize he’d started growling until his father was standing in front of him with the kind of concerned look that only a parent could wear, and Knight stopped the noise immediately. Knight’s beast was furious at everything that was happening to his family, and he wanted out—and yet his beast calmed under the direct influence of his Alpha. How his father managed to exude the necessary composure to do that was beyond Knight’s understanding.
A lot of things were beyond his understanding at the moment.
“Knight?” Father said. “It’s not your fault that Rook was injured. The blame lies solely at the feet of the women who kidnapped him.”
“They kidnapped him to bait me,” Knight said. Despite the wash of serenity trying to curb his anger, some of that bitter rage still leaked out in the snap of his words. “And they succeeded brilliantly, didn’t they?”
“For a short time, but like all inept thieves, they couldn’t keep what they stole. I’m proud of you, son, for protecting your brother. More proud than I can say.”
The comfort Knight wanted to take in his father’s words didn’t make it past the shame of allowing the capture in the first place—or the fear that they’d come for him again, and that more loup would pay the price with their lives. “Thank you.”
“Knight?” His voice had adopted that tense hesitation he’d used when speaking with Rook a moment ago. Knight forced himself to look up and into his father’s eyes—and the apprehension he saw hidden behind the familiar copper flecks nearly cut Knight’s legs out from under him. “What happened when you were alone with Fiona and Victoria?”
Knight kept his gaze level, his expression as neutral as possible, even though his insides were shaking with rage and shame. He knew Father would ask, had practiced his answers in his head during the ride back to Cornerstone. “Victoria fed from me first, which led to weakness and disorientation. I remember them moving me into the bedroom. At some point, they bound my wrists and ankles, and they wrapped silver chain around my neck to keep me docile. My shirt was removed. I’m not sure how. They may have cut it off.”
His rehearsed answers faltered as his heart battled what his mind had already told him to say next. Last night in the motel shower, Knight had gone through his memory of events over and over, examining the strongest in an attempt to bolster the weakest. Some things he allowed to drift into the back of his mind, to a dark place where the memory wouldn’t hinder his life here, or affect the delicate emotional balance he needed to maintain as a White Wolf.
“They made their intentions pretty clear,” Knight continued. “Fiona wanted me to impregnate Victoria.”
Father’s jaw twitched at the unsurprising statement. “And?”
“I told them both to go to hell, and after they made fun of my clichéd response, they tried to proceed without my cooperation. Victoria took her clothes off. Fiona . . . tried to help nature along.” God, there were some things he’d never imagined looking his father in the eye and saying. Knight ignored the overwhelming need to tell them what really happened, and instead said what his head decided was the truth. “The blood loss kept me from getting hard. After a while, they gave up and left me alone.” One last line, almost word for word from the witch’s mouth, would make it perfectly reasonable. “Fiona said they’d try again when they got me home.”
Father’s face was unreadable. The only part of him that betrayed any emotion were his eyes, which burned with anger and with a deeper need to avenge his child’s pain. A violation was a violation. Knight had been taken hostage, fed from, and touched against his will—and Thomas McQueen was pissed.
And apparently stumped for what to say next. Rook didn’t offer anything useful, but he also didn’t contradict Knight’s words.
Compelled to break the oppressive silence and somehow comfort his father, Knight added, “I’m fine, Dad.”
He blinked hard, probably because Knight had used the most familiar form of address possible. It took the situation firmly out of the realm of the Alpha and into the hands of a worried parent. His father grasped his forearm in a firm grip. “I hate that this happened, son.”
“Me, too.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t admit this, but I’ve always worried about you more than your brothers. White Wolves carry a heavy burden. I saw what your mother went through, and I never wanted that pain for you.” He inhaled, held it, then exhaled hard in a weary sigh. “In a way, it’s all come full circle. The run connected to her death was nearly destroyed tonight, and all for the same thing.”
“Me?”
“Greed.” Father squeezed his arm, his expression fierce. “For wanting something that wasn’t theirs to take.”
“Mom died a long time ago. You had no way of knowing any of this would happen. No one could have predicted the Potomac run being targeted or Fiona’s plans for me.” Despite everything, Knight couldn’t bear seeing such pain in his father’s eyes, thinking all of this was somehow connected to the actions that led to their mother’s death twenty years ago. He needed to take some of that guilt away. “And maybe I carry an unusual burden as a White Wolf, but I’ve always known I’m loved. We all do.”
His father’s expression softened, and Knight allowed a brief hug. He also spared a glance at Rook for the first time, only to find Rook staring at the far wall, his temperament impossible to read from that angle.
“We can’t guess what will happen next, but we can take steps to better protect ourselves,” Father said. “Knight, I don’t want you leaving town limits for the foreseeable future, or for you to wander around outside alone. You are to be with someone at all times.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Knight said.
“I didn’t say bodyguard. Think of it more like the buddy system, and it’s not negotiable if you want to leave this house.”
There was no arguing with the Alpha when he made decrees in that tone of voice. “Understood. On one condition.”
“Which is what?”
“Brynn needs to be told about her loup blood.” From the corner of his eye, Rook startled and turned to face them. “Especially after what we know about Fiona. We can’t keep the fact that Brynn’s a Magus hidden from the general public for much longer, and after all of her help, she deserves full disclosure.”
“She doesn’t seem to be accepting Fiona’s dual nature very well,” Rook said. “She’s barely said a word about it.”
“Perhaps you should be the one to tell her,” Father said to Rook. “She seems to trust you the most, and Knight is correct. She needs to know. And we need to know if there’s any connection between Brynn’s mixed blood and Fiona’s existence. The Magi keep so much about themselves secret that any help Brynn gives us will be invaluable.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you. First, though, I want both of you checked out by Dr. Mike, especially you, Rook. Those silver burns need to be examined.”
The last thing Knight needed was Dr. Mike poking and prodding him, but he nodded his agreement. Arguing would do no good, and he wanted to head over to Dr. Mike’s to visit Shay and Devlin anyway. He’d just put the exam off as long as possible so the second pair of vampire teeth marks could finish healing—no one knew about that bite, and he had no plans to share.
“I have to head over to the office for a few hours and take care of some auction business,” Father said. “I’ll see you at home for lunch.”
Their father left the library first. He took with him the heaviness of the conversation they’d just had, leaving Knight relieved and exhausted. The mental gymnastics were going to kill him before Fiona got another shot. And he still had Rook’s
look
to deal with. Rook had stood up, and he followed Knight silently out of the house.
Their street was quiet and almost empty. Curiosity plagued the town residents, but they also knew better than to idly hang around the Alpha’s front lawn. They’d be gossiping among themselves in town, at Smythe’s Restaurant, Belle’s Diner, or the various Main Street shops.
Knight crossed the street at an easy pace, Rook at his elbow. He could see the questions radiating from his younger brother, and it was only a matter of time before they were verbalized. Knight’s feet were hardly on the sidewalk in front of Dr. Mike’s house when Rook said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lie to our father before.”
Knight didn’t respond to the comment, just stopped and turned to face him. Rook didn’t look angry or upset—rather sad, maybe a little understanding. Knight’s heart ached with it, but he didn’t feel chastised by the expression or the words. He felt understood. Safe.
“And I won’t contradict anything you said to him,” Rook continued. “Unless it becomes necessary for the safety of the run.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” And he didn’t. As much as he wanted to make Rook promise to keep anything he knew secret, Knight couldn’t do that and Rook would never agree. As their potential future Alpha, Rook had a duty to the run as a whole—even if it meant betraying a single member.
“But as your brother, I’m worried about you.”
“I know you are.”
“Anything you need.”
“Right.”
The familiar shorthand comforted Knight, and he let himself smile. Rook didn’t smile back, just raised an eyebrow. They continued on to Dr. Mike’s house.
Chapter Sixteen
A Magus-loup half-breed.
The idea of such an offspring had haunted Brynn’s mind for hours, cutting off most other thoughts and demanding her full attention. The ramifications of such a creature were sure to be huge and long-lasting to the Congress of Magi. How had such a thing remained a secret for so many years, especially considering the woman’s ability to incinerate people from the inside out?
She hadn’t paid much attention to the conversation in the library, beyond confirming what she already knew: Fiona wanted Knight so they could make more hybrid babies. The horror of it made her stomach squirrely and also made her doubly glad she and O’Bannen had arrived in time. She grieved silently for all of the loup garou who’d died last night in West Virginia—grief she did not understand, because they were strangers. She didn’t know them, owed them nothing, so why did their deaths—and the deaths of those from Stonehill—hurt like they were her own kin?