Entwined Strangers (BBW Shifter Romance): Sorcery & Shifters Book 4 (5 page)

I’m tired too, even more so because I was carrying Piper for the last few miles.

Dammit. I thought it would be easier than this. They really made brick walls to last back in the days, but I can’t let that stop me. I have to believe that each time the crowbar strikes this wall, it’s doing some good, so I keep swinging.

My mind begins to wander. It’s strange to think that I’m going through all this effort to help my enemy. A man who ordered his men to crucify Mason with silver spikes. He would have died if I hadn’t improvised a spell to save him.

Not just that, but Trent is the same man who tried pressing me into slavery. A man who would have
marked
me in front of Mason and Sylvia just to assert himself, until Candice and Saffron showed up in time. And then it happened anyway, beneath The Vault, in that moody, torch-lit room.

I can’t deny it. Despite all his despicable qualities, I’ve been aroused by Trent the whole time, his alpha male dominance, ever since he began showing up in my visions. It’s intoxicating and repulsive at the same time.

Okay, it’s mostly intoxicating.

When we found ourselves in that tiny little room, I was glad he stopped me from killing him and caught my hand with the silver spike. I wanted to be handled by him.

Trying to kill Trent was the right thing to do at the time, while he was still weak, but my heart wasn’t in it. I committed physically, but it was secretly a relief to be overpowered by him.

There is more to Trent than meets the eye. I sensed it even then. I just didn’t know what I was sensing yet. He was such a scenery-chewing villain at Sylvia’s place. Nobody is really like that. I wanted to know more.

I was prepared to kill in order to survive, but not just that. I wanted to kill the feelings I was having about him… the feelings I’ve been experiencing ever since he showed up in my visions. I wanted to kill the man who was responsible for evoking those feelings in the first place.

When I kissed Trent instead, in that dark little room, it felt so natural.

To find out afterward that Trent worked for Felix was totally unexpected. To find out that Felix held his daughter hostage to secure his loyalty also answered a lot of questions.

What he tried to do back at Sylvia’s place, pressing me into slavery by using Mason as insurance, was
learned
behavior. He picked it up from the man who pressed him into service. Trent was just doing to me what had been done to him.

I can’t help but think that there’s a redeemable man in there, assuming I can break through this impenetrable wall in time.

I stop for a moment to catch my breath and examine the progress I’ve made.

Barely a dent.

“Ms. Aberdeen. I think Daddy fell asleep.”

Piper is standing behind me. I turn around to see Trent is slumped over, lying in the storm water. He’s lost too much blood from those silver-bullet wounds.

It’s strange. Trent is even more vulnerable to me now than he was back in that tiny little room, yet I don’t have the slightest interest in killing him anymore.

I drop the crowbar and go to him instead. He’s enormously heavy, but I manage to prop him back up against the aqueduct wall. I straddle his legs and grab the sides of his head.

“Trent! Wake up!”

Nothing.

Yelling down here probably isn’t the best idea. If people are looking for us, my voice will carry. Still, how is yelling any different than from swinging a crowbar into brick?

“TRENT! WAKE UP!”

No reaction.

I slap him. His eyes open groggily.

“Was that good for you?” he asks, murmuring.

“Shut up and stay awake. I can’t have you passing out on me.”

“Go. Take Piper. Find safety.”

Trent was my enemy earlier today, but not anymore. This man is my ally now and I need his help. I can’t leave him here.

“No. You have to get up. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“You can’t break the wall. I can’t either. Too weak.”

“What about your bloodline? All that talk about nobility? Surely a werewolf of your lineage doesn’t give up easily.”

Trent smiles. “Using my pride against me? Guess I deserve that. I wish it weren’t so, but I’m done.”

“You’re done when I say you’re done,” I tell him, for all the good it does.

“Save Piper,” he mutters. “That will make it all worthwhile.”

“Like blazes it will! If you’re really doing this for your daughter, then save yourself. I’m not responsible for your salvation!”

“You may not have a choice,” he says with genuine regret and sincerity.

It’s true. There’s nothing I can do for him. It pains me to admit it, but I might have to leave him in this tunnel to die in order to save Piper.

“What’s behind this wall, Ms. Aberdeen?” she asks. I turn around to see where she’s looking.

“If your dad’s right, that’s my brownstone.”

“And is there anything in your house that can help him?”

“There’s a first-aid kit with some surgical instruments. I can use those to dig the silver bullets out of your father. Then he should be able to heal by himself.”

“What about your healing spells?” she asks.

“I’m sorry, Piper, but those only work on me,” I tell her, feeling guilty about that fact.

“Okay then.”

Suddenly the eight-year-old isn’t a child anymore. She turns into something else. She grows a little taller, a little broader, and a lot furrier. The dress she’s been wearing all this time doesn’t split apart, but it does bulge with her inside.

Trent’s eyes widen. “Baby girl. When did you—”

“Don’t look at me, Daddy. I’m really hairy right now.”

Piper punches the wall in front of her with a little fist. It sends a crack straight up through the brick.

Piper makes short work of the wall. Once her little werewolf fist punches a hole through the surface, she tears through the surrounding bricks like toy blocks.

Trent seems to rouse a little as he watches his daughter. There’s pride in his expression, despite how pale he looks. He doesn’t look quite so ready to give up anymore.

I shoulder as much of Trent’s weight of as I can, which isn’t a lot, and help him onto his feet. He gets up and plods through the hole Piper created. We both have to duck, but Piper leads the way down a short tunnel. The flashlight reveals an old door.

“Can you push it open, little cub?” Trent asks his daughter.

“I’ll try,” she says.

Piper manages to break the door seal, and even gets the doors open a little, but then it stops moving. She keeps pushing, until her feet slide on the ground beneath her.

“It’s stuck.”

It’s been nine months since I’ve been back here, but then it dawns on me. This must be the boarded-up door in my meditation room downstairs. I hid it behind an enormous wooden apothecary. The antique shelf weighs hundreds of pounds, especially when full.

“There’s a giant cupboard in our way,” I tell them.

“I can handle it,” Trent says, “but only if you help me, munchkin.”

He walks over to the door, using the wall for support, and leans against it with his good shoulder. Piper mirrors what her father does.

Still no luck.

“Okay. Take your shoes off. Use your claws to grab the floor. Then push at the same time as me, okay?”

“Okay, but don’t look at me any more than you have to!” she complains.

“Why? You look adorable.”

“I said don’t look!” Piper growls, which is even more adorable. She takes off her shoes and digs in like her father instructed.

“Ready? On three. One. Two. Three!”

Trent pushes with both legs. The good one and the wounded one. I can tell it hurts. He grits through the pain. This is all he has left, but fortunately it’s enough. The apothecary slides on the floor. Not a lot, but enough for all of us to squeeze through.

“Let me go in first,” I tell them. “There are magical protections in place.”

I step into my meditation room and immediately feel the magic ward that Candice and Saffron cast on my brownstone. It welcomes me like a familiar cocoon. So long as I’m the first to enter, the ward permits any guests with me at the time to do the same.

The meditation room is one of the more austere parts of my apartment. I adorned it with one painting on each wall and paper blinds in the corners.

Trent surprises me by pushing back against the massive cupboard once we’re all inside, barricading the door again.

He’s turned away from me and so I can’t see his face. When he’s done, Trent stands up straight for a moment, wobbles, and then collapses backward on the floor.

“Daddy!” Piper screams, still a tiny werewolf. She goes to him and yells directly in his face, “Daddy! Wake up!”

He doesn’t move. His face doesn’t even twitch.

“Stay with him, Piper. I’ll be right back.”

I have an industrial first-aid kit in the bathroom from my training. That will have all the instruments I need. It’s heavy, but I grab it from under the cupboard and rush back to Trent. I fall to my knees beside his body.

“He’s not waking up!” Piper cries.

“Keeping talking to him, Piper. Let him hear your voice. He might not act like it, but he can hear you. I’m going to work on getting those bullets out of him.”

I rifle through the kit until I find a set of forceps for removing bullets and then cut the bandage off his arm. There’s no time to waste, so I insert the length of it into the wound. Follow the path of the bullet. Doing it all by feel.

I’ve never done anything like this before on a person. I’ve only practiced on surgical dummies to earn my certification.

Piper whispers directly in her dad’s ear, telling Trent how much she loves him, how much she wants to go running with him again now that he knows she can change into a wolf. It’s heartbreaking. I’m hearing every word, but utterly focused on the task as well.

Found it. I use the clamp to snag the bullet and then slowly pull it out. Trent doesn’t move even a little. That’s not a good sign. He’s really out of it.

I pack the wound with gauze and tape it. If this works, he will only need that bandage for a moment before his natural healing kicks in. Or so I hope.

The leg is next. I feed the long forceps into the bullet wound again and follow the bullet’s trajectory through sinew.

Trent is bleeding a lot, but not so much that an artery was hit. If it had, he would have died ages ago. Werewolves are resilient, but stab them or shoot them with silver, and it seems like they die no different than anybody else.

That’s when I find what feels like a bullet. It’s hard to tell. The slug isn’t loose like the first one. That means it’s probably lodged into bone.

I close my eyes and try to imagine the bullet, feel what I think is the casing. It’s just barely protruding, so there’s not much for me to grab. The end is all I get. I grip that and squeeze. If this is the best purchase I’m going to get, it’s now or never.

I pull the forceps out.

Got it. Stubborn little bastard. I’m sweating, but at least this part is over. I pack the wound and check his arm again. Nothing. No signs of healing.

Wait, I spoke too soon. It’s starting to visibly heal now, but slowly. Thank the gods. I lean back against the apothecary and take a deep breath. My first in a while.

“Is Daddy going to be okay?”

“I think so, Piper. Just give him a few more moments.”

Piper waits patiently beside her father. She loves him so much, and I can understand why. Trent is a completely different person with his daughter, including her mother Sylvia, whom he treats horribly. With Piper, he’s positively gentle.

I’d even go so far as to say that being gentle comes naturally to Trent, as if all the anger and brutality he projects is just an act. The face he wears to be a werewolf pack leader. It’s not who he really is.

I got a glimpse of what lies behind his mask back in that stone room beneath The Vault, when he turned out to be an extremely attentive lover. It pains me to admit this, but he was one of the best lovers I’ve ever known.

Piper wipes the sweat off her father’s brow. I should grab my spare phone upstairs, call Candice and Saffron on our private network, but decide to watch over my patient for a while longer.

If this works, and all the silver has been removed from his body, it shouldn’t take long before he’s back on his feet. His breathing is more even now. I can even see color returning to his face.

Trent regains consciousness a moment later with a start. He takes a deep breath, then sits up, crimson eyes bolting open.

“Daddy! You’re alive!”

Piper throws her arms around him, and he hugs her back right away.

“It sure feels that way,” he says. Trent looks down and notices the first-aid kit and the surgical instruments beside him.

“Ms. Aberdeen saved you!” Piper explains.

Trent looks up at me, sitting a few feet away. My head is propped up with one hand. Elbow on my knee. I smile.

“Thank you,” he says. “I owe you my life.”

“Yeah you do,” I throw back sarcastically, “and don’t think for one moment that I won’t call in that favor one day.”

“I hope you do. You could have let me die. I’ve certainly given you reason to want me dead, but you didn’t. You saved me instead.”

“I did, but not for the reasons you might think. Suffice it to say, I want you alive.”

“Are you sure about that? Everything I’ve done so far has been motivated by self-interest. I won’t lie. I helped you escape so you could help me get Piper away from Felix. If I didn’t think you could help me, you’d be back at The Vault right now.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh gods. Fine! I won’t pretend you’re a good person if that’s what you’re worried about. We just
happen
to be on the same side through no fault of our own. Is that better?”

I look over at Piper, who is trying to make sense of our conversation.

“Besides, how could I not save this little girl’s father? If Piper thinks so highly of you, then you must have
some
redeemable qualities. Even if it was happenstance, and not kindness, that caused you help me.”

I get it. Trent’s trying to assert his gruff nature again. He doesn’t realize that it’s too late. I’ve seen how vulnerable he can be and there’s no going back from that now, no matter how assertive he wants to be.