Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (13 page)

“How did they get him to the barn, anyway?”

“My bedroll,” Casey grumbled in disgust. “I’m going to have to burn that thing. It’s seen way too much action since we got here.”

Brock’s lips split into a grin as he remembered the kind of “action” he and his mates had shown to Casey’s sleeping bag. It wasn’t really funny, and he’d be spitting mad if someone had done it to him, but he didn’t regret it. After all this mess was cleared up, he’d find a way to make it up to his friend.

“Let me go!”

“Seems our guest is not happy with his accommodations.” There was a hardness to Joss’s voice that Brock hadn’t heard before, not even when the guy had extended his less-than-friendly greeting the night Brock arrived.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out the cause of his anger, either. It had nothing to do with Brock, though they’d known each other for years. There might be a little concern for Koba, but only a little. The rage Joss was feeling centered around Moira and the fact that someone was trying to hurt her.

Anyone else in his position might be jealous that the beta felt so strongly for his mate, but not Brock. Moira was beautiful, and he’d be a fool if he thought other men didn’t notice. Joss’s affection for her wasn’t sexual, though. All anyone had to do was watch him look at Casey to see where his desires were directed.

The rest of the pack may have turned their back on Moira, but she still had one very influential ally in her corner, and for that, Brock could only be grateful. Thinking of his girl, however, led to thinking about sex with his girl, and then in turn led him to his next question. “Does a demoness have a mating heat like a lycan female?”

“Yes.” His eyebrows drew together, and Casey looked at him in confusion. “It should have started right after you claimed her.”

“Uh, we’ve barely even touched since then. There’s been a lot going on.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to justify their lack of intimacy. It wasn’t anyone’s business what went on between him and his mates.

“Well, that would explain a lot.”

“Maybe you want to explain it to me, because I’m lost.”

“Demons have omegas just as lycans do. Omegas can’t conceive or bear offspring, so if a demoness is an omega, she wouldn’t have a mating heat.”

Brock didn’t understand exactly how that explained anything other than why Moira hadn’t been molesting him around the clock since their interlude in the barn. “Koba said we needed to talk before he was kidnapped. Do you think he knew?”

“Most likely.” They stepped into the barn, and Casey glanced up toward the loft as he spoke. “I’m sure omegas would recognize each other. I’ve never known two to be mated, though. A pack isn’t supposed to have more than one omega, so you can see the problem.”

A mated pair would never agree to be separated, so a pair of mated omegas would have to be part of the same pack. Yes, Brock could definitely see the problem. “When they first met, they didn’t immediately recognize each other as mates. I guess they kind of muddled through it, but Koba said it was like a broken connection.”

“I don’t really know, but you’re all together now. You’ve got time to work out the details.”

Very true, so Brock pushed the issue to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand. “You ready to do this?”

“I didn’t do anything!” the Walker shouted from above them. “I never hurt anyone. Let me go!”

“Yep.” Joss ascended the ladder first with Casey behind him, and Brock bringing up the rear.

Squinting into the dimly lit corner, Brock was surprised to see how small and unassuming the Walker appeared in his human form. “Are you sure this is the same guy?”

Casey shrugged. “You wanted a Shadow Walker. Does it really matter which one he is?”

“What’s your name?” Brock demanded.

“Callan Rhys. Look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I never hurt anyone, I swear.”

Good grief, the kid didn’t look any older than nineteen or twenty and scared out of his ever-loving mind as he huddled naked in the corner. His big, brown eyes stared back at Brock, pleading for leniency, and his bottom lip quivered with each exhale of breath. A little piece of Brock’s heart broke right there on the spot.

“Callan, where are you from?” Casey spoken soothingly, gently, and he crouched down in the dry hay far enough away from Callan so as not to be intimidating. “How did you get to Mission Landing?”

“Birmingham, and I honestly don’t know. I think someone hit me in the head, I blacked out, and when I woke up, I couldn’t go out in the sun anymore. I shifted once, but it hurt like hell. Are you guys really werewolves?”

“When did this happen?” Joss asked, kneeling down beside Casey. “How long ago was it?”

“Two weeks, I think. I can’t really be sure. I mean, it’s not like they let us have cell phones or calendars.” Callan looked down at his hands and winced. “Can you please loosen these a little? I swear I won’t run, but my wrists are starting to bleed, and it hurts.”

Joss extracted a pocketknife from his jeans, flipped open the blade, and cut the ropes so that they fell away completely. Brock watched in astonishment as the beta then took the Walker’s hands into his own, brought the raw and rough skin around Callan’s wrists to his mouth, and kissed the flesh gently. “Better?”

“Oh, son of a bitch!” Brock spun to face the other direction and threw his hands up. “I fucking quit.”

“You know I didn’t do this on purpose,” Casey mumbled. “I can’t help who fate choses for me.”

Brock understood that, but he’d been looking forward to beating the crap out of something. He needed some kind of outlet for his pent-up aggression, and now the Shadow Walker was untouchable. “I know,” he finally relented. “I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” Callan whispered, pulling his hands away from Joss and scrunching deeper into the corner. “I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”

“Easy. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The beta’s skin looked a little paler than normal, and he seemed to choke on his next questions before he got it past his lips. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three. Why?”

Joss and Casey both deflated right before his eyes, and even Brock had to admit he was relieved. “You only shifted once?” While he was happy for his friends that they’d found their third, he still had a job to do. Only now, maybe it would be a little easier.

“Yes, sir.”

“Were you with the Walkers that attacked us in the woods last night?”

“Walkers?”

“I’ll explain later.” Settling on the floor beside Callan, Casey pulled his shirt off over his head and passed it to the smaller man. “Put this on, pup.” He waited for Joss to assist in covering all of their mate’s bits and pieces before continuing. “Were you in the woods last night? Did you fight?”

“I was there.” Callan nodded slowly. “I hid up in one of the trees until I thought everyone was gone. I hoped that they would think I died with the others, but when I climbed down from the tree, these wolves started chasing me.”

“Who is ‘they’?” He’d spoken a bit sharper than he intended, but too much time had already passed.

“I don’t know their names, but there are four of them. The one who seems to be the main guy is really pale and mean.”

“Where are they?”

“North of here. There’s an abandoned house near a river. That’s all I know.”

“Why did you attack us?” Brock ignored the glare Joss sent his way as he continued grilling Callan. He wanted to ask why they’d been slaughtering small towns down the coast, but if Callan was only turned a couple of weeks ago, it would be a wasted question.

“We were told to take out anyone who would help the girl. We were not to touch her. Hell, the pale guy said that she wouldn’t even be there, that she wouldn’t be allowed.”

Whoever this pale guy was, he obviously knew nothing about Moira. No one
allowed
her to do anything. “What else?”

“They told us to take the gray wolf and kill the rest. If we couldn’t get to the gray wolf, we let him go, and others would intercept him once he was separated from the rest.”

“How many of you are there?”

Callan shrugged and chewed on his bottom lip for a long time before answering. “Maybe twenty. I’m not really sure. There are new guys coming into the house almost every day.”

“Thank you,” Casey whispered, and his fingers curled over his knees as though he was resisting the urge to touch the guy. “You’ve been a lot of help.”

“Will you let me go now?”

Joss and Casey looked up to Brock for an answer. Growling under his breath and shoving a hand through his short hair, Brock bobbed his head twice. “Yeah, get him up to the house.”

“It’s not safe for you to leave, but we can make you more comfortable,” Joss explained. “Once this is over, you can go wherever you want, okay? We’ll even help you get there.”

Callan appeared to think it over before eventually nodding his agreement. “I don’t have to be tied up?”

“Nope,” Casey replied with a smile.

“Can I wear clothes?”

“I insist.”

“Do I…do I have to eat raw meat? It doesn’t make me sick, but it doesn’t taste very good.”

Brock could see the muscle in Casey’s jaw tick, and knew his friend was trying to calm his rage before he spoke. “No, Callan. You can eat whatever you want, however you’d like it prepared.”

Now that they’d settled the matter, Brock pulled his phone from his pocket and started to dial. He was interrupted by an incoming call from an unknown number, though. “Who is this?”

“Brock, I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Koba? Koba, where are you?”

“Listen! There are at least three lycans tracking me right now. I don’t think I’m far from you, but I don’t know the area. There are vampires, Brock. Vampries, lycans, Walkers, and something else that I can’t name. You have to take Moira and go.”

“I’m coming for you right now. Just stay low and wait for me.”

“Brock! You’re not listening! You have to go. That thing I can’t name? It smells very similar to Moira. I think it might be demons. The pack lands are going to be crawling with bad guys by the time the sun sets.”

“We’ll handle it. If we run, they’ll just follow. Find the river and start walking south. I’m sending Gatlan and Casey for you.”

There was an audible sigh, and Brock could picture Koba rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. Brock…”

“Just tell me.”

“I slipped into the doggie door of a house and stole some clothes.”

He sounded so guilty that Brock couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll take the clothes back later. Now go. The guys are on their way.”

“We’ll bring him back,” Casey said the minute he’d hung up the phone. Then he squeezed Callan’s hand, kissed Joss on the temple, and scrambled down the ladder.

“I’ll get Callan to the house and introduce him to the boss.”

Brock couldn’t argue that Moira definitely ran the show. Once Joss had Callan wrapped in the sleeping bag and tossed over his shoulder, Brock scrolled through the contacts in his phone, coming to one that had been saved there for months, but he’d never had occasion to dial.

He stared at the number for several seconds, his thumb hovering over the name, debating if he was doing the right thing. His desire to keep the people he loved safe outweighed whatever fallout there might be in the end. So, he connected the call and pressed the phone to his ear.

“My name is Brock Lancaster, alpha of the Red Moon Pack in Mission Landing, Alabama,” he said by way of greeting when the call was answered. “We’ve never met, but I need your help.”

“You found him?” Moira barely resisted the urge to grab Brock and shake him.

“Technically, he found himself, but yeah, Koba is coming home.”

Not caring who watched, Moira threw herself into her mate’s arms and laid a kiss on him that she hoped curled his toes. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“I put the toilet seat down, too. What do I get for that?”

She was too relieved to even scold him for ruining a perfectly good show of gratitude. Winding her arms around his neck, she buried her face against Brock’s shoulder and laughed. “Learn how to make the bed, and then we’ll talk.”

“Done.”

“She’s really pretty,”
the new guy in the room thought quietly, but Moira heard it loud and clear.
“I like how she smiles. The other one doesn’t ever smile.”

Releasing her lover, Moira turned to the runt and arched an eyebrow. “The other what exactly?”

Bless his heart, but he blushed all the way to the tips of his ears as he tripped all over himself to apologize. “Oh, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“You didn’t say anything, Callan.” Leaning his head back on the sofa, Joss sighed and scrubbed at his face. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

He was preaching to the choir. At least “this” wasn’t happening to him. “I’m not mad, Callan, is it? I am curious as to what you meant, though. Who doesn’t smile?”

“The pale guy that kind of looks like you.” Callan wrinkled his nose and tilted his head to the side. “He kind of smells like you, too, but not as nice. You smell woodsy, like a campfire, but I can also smell something flowery. This is really weird, by the way. How can I smell all of this stuff?”

Looking over her shoulder to Brock, Moira subtly tipped her head in Callan’s direction. “He doesn’t know?” she mouthed, frowning when Brock shook his head minutely. He opened his mouth to speak, but Moira narrowed her eyes in warning and reached up subtly to tap at her temple.

“He knows parts of it, but not nearly enough to survive on his own. He’s only shifted once, and he said it was extremely painful.”

Moira glanced back to the guy, to Joss, and finally back around to Brock, arching her brow in question.

“Apparently, he’s Joss and Casey’s mate. They’ll take care of him, but I don’t know where they’ll go.”

“They’ll stay here, of course,” Moira said aloud.

“What are they doing?” Callan whispered to up to Joss.

The beta rolled his eyes and huffed. “My guess would be talking about you.”