Redemption (4 page)

“Like I said, we’re short on pomp and circumstance.” Trent grinned as his gaze landed on Jarvis. “Imagine our surprise when we woke and realized our charge was gone.”

“You needed your beauty sleep and my mate was restless to get here.”

Trent crossed his arms and regarded them a moment. “I assume you two discussed the situation.”

“Some,” Adrik stated. “Perhaps we should head inside to have this conversation.”

Adrik motioned toward Headquarters, but Kadal shook his head and inserted himself into the discussion.

“Inside isn’t an option. We stopped to ensure Jarvis and Bessa were here. Daryn called. They need us down South.”

Typical commanding flyer bullshit, short on time unless it suited them. Adrik’s gaze swept the marketplace. The Impure crowd had dissipated thanks to his sentinels and warriors. The pack drifted down the path of the cottage they’d all helped prepare for Bessa and Jarvis.

One of his beta wolves, Hal, jogged over and waited a few feet away.

“There a problem?”

“Doc’s requested your assistance in Medical. We have a security issue.”

“Peyton’s on Medical,” Adrik reminded the beta. “She’ll handle it.” Few betas liked dealing with the lone female sentinel of the pack, which was why he’d put her in charge of handling day-to-day operations. Her formidable temper proved a worthy deterrent for any pack who may want to cause mischief around visiting Impures.

“I-I…” his gaze widened as it landed on Trent. The wolf stooped to kneel, but Adrik grabbed his shirt and tugged him upward. “Right. Sorry.”

“Find Peyton. She can handle Doc’s problem.”

The beta hesitated a moment, his gaze on the dragon king, then the gryphons.

“Knowing the little hellion sentinel, she’s the problem,” Kadal growled. “Go. He’ll be there shortly. We’re leaving soon.”

The man nodded his head and tore off for Medical as though the fires of hell were singeing his ass. He was ruthless in battle, but socially awkward more times than not.

“I’ll go, grab Marek on the way, just in case. The warriors have the crowd contained now, so he isn’t needed out here,” Ren stated. Adrik nodded as the sentinel tore off toward the heavily populated area where Impures were treated. They’d learned early on to handle any security issues at Medical swiftly.

“Adrik, I understand your hesitation. To be blunt, I suspect I’d agree with many of your arguments. So, let me alleviate what I assume are your primary objectives.”

This should be entertaining
. Though he’d fought beside Trent in countless battles, he didn’t know the man. “Go on.”

“First off, this wasn’t a decision I endorsed, but many other things are festering at Command Central. I’ll trust Jarvis to fill you in later. For now, know I have my reasons for going along with the Council’s decision.”

“It’s the right call,” Jarvis stated. “I trust you to take my place, Adrik. The pack will as well, without question.”

“Your presence at Command will give much-needed insight into the Redemption effort. Few understand this site, the fact it’s the spine strengthening our defenses.” Trent’s approval made Adrik calm. “Providing Impures with a safe haven keeps their Alliance forces strong enough to fight the NAH and the succubae. Thanks to you they’re supplied and trained enough to win.”

“Trained?” Kane asked.

“Adrik’s three packs in this quadrant rotate into rigorous training regiments for The Alliance,” Jarvis supplied.

“Under whose authority?” Kane demanded.

“Mine,” Jarvis replied.

Trent sighed. “Let’s get to the point. You must be appointed Alpha Commander. Who runs this quadrant and how many packs and sentinels within it will be your call completely. Unlike Council, I realize having Jarvis lead this quadrant isn’t a viable option.”

Tension vacated Jarvis’s stance. “Many of Adrik’s sentinels would make exceptional Alphas—far better than some of the other quadrant Commanders.”

“Excellent. I trust you to restructure the pack leadership and locations however you desire. I’ve always endorsed a distribution of packs based on threat levels. What I can offer you is my approval, which translates to a distribution of the dragon dens for each quadrant to coincide with yours. You’ll work with us at Command on the specifics, but the call will ultimately be yours.”

How many times had he and his warriors discussed potential restructurings? Hundreds of times. Maybe thousands. The potential evident in Trent’s promises gave Adrik pause.

“I believe we’ve given you enough to consider. We’ll return once we’ve handled the Outsiders.” Trent smiled. “Good luck with the issue at Medical, whatever it may be.”

The man stepped back and leaped. Power hung in the air as the three flyers shifted in mid jump. The startling display of power made the residual gawkers gasp.

“Fucking flyers,” Adrik ground.

“You haven’t seen anything. Just wait until you get to Command.” Jarvis chuckled. “Let’s go figure out what’s going down at Medical before your beta pisses himself thinking about coming for you a second time.”

Amusement rose in Adrik as he swatted Jarvis on the shoulder. “I’ve missed you, man.”

Jarvis locked gazes. “This is the right thing. Think on it, but know it’s the only call we have to make. Give my mate the time she needs here. I promise we’ll do right by Redemption. Your baby will be in good hands, and so will your packs—especially since I want to turn all three over to your sentinels.”

“We’ll talk about it. Let’s get to Medical.”

They fell into a trot as they wound through the alley to enter via the side entrance. The scent of antiseptic overrode a pervasive stench of illness wafting from the overflowing lobby. Patients sat in chairs set up along the narrow hallway. Voices rose from the end of the passage.

“Finally. I was about to send Hal after you again.” Doc’s white dragon assistant, Lynette, pocketed a fistful of tranquilizer darts and headed down the hall.

He followed dutifully with Jarvis on his heels. His wolf tuned to voices rising in agitation. Ren, Peyton and Marek. What the hell?

“Your sentinels are barring me from tending my patient. Remove them or I shoot their asses up.” She paused in front of Ren, who’d put himself in front of the shut door.

“You don’t know shit about this situation,” Ren growled as he stepped aside.

“Then we’re having words later about communication, wolf, because the day your pack gets in my way when I’m tending someone—especially someone who’s injured—I swear I’ll go all red dragon and flambé you all.”

“Aren’t you a white dragon?” Jarvis asked, his amusement evident since she was all of five foot.

“I’ll get it all sorted,” Adrik said.

“You’d better. Otherwise I’m tossing all your asses out. There’s no reason for an overgrown shrew of a sentinel to try to toss my patient out of Redemption.” The white dragon halted before the door. Angered shouts and growls echoed from behind the door. “We don’t do shit like that around here, Adrik.”

No. They didn’t. The shrill scream from the other side of the door left little doubt who the overgrown shrew was. Peyton. The pack’s only female sentinel, she was fierce, but short on patience.

Another scream echoed from the room beside him. Adrik growled. He had his own issues to deal with right now—namely a shrill female wolf. He threw the door open.

His brain drowned in shock as his gaze swept past Peyton kicking, jerking and punching in Marek’s embrace. A couple of warriors stood between them and the patient sitting in a filthy heap in the center of the bed.

Blood and mud caked what’d once been alabaster skin he’d longed to lick, taste. If Bessa was thin, Mira was waif-thin. His wolf growled. From rage or a feral instinct to protect, Adrik wasn’t sure. The Impure female blinked, her deep green eyes observing him from behind a mop of stringy, mud-caked hair.

“Adrik.”

Shock overrode reason and he lunged forward until the stench of her presence permeated his nostrils and made his wolf flare with need—a feral necessity to protect, an anguished desire to taste, a potent rage to hurt. Like she had him.

Duty warred with desire and tangled with rage. The human vanished from his life two years before without a word. His wolf stirred, punching at his chest. Yeah. They’d both been fools back then to believe they’d meant something to her.

For months she’d edged her way past his defenses and wormed her way into his pack’s life. A runner for The Alliance, she spent countless days in Redemption before running the provisions and intel back to her people. During her time there she’d forged friendships, bonds that’d meant something to his people.

To him.

Fuck. He’d thought she was his mate.

Thankful as fuck she was alive, yet furious she’d left. A part of him was ready to grab hold of her and not let go while the other wanted to get her gone before she ripped out what was left of his heart.

Mira.

Alive.

His wolf howled in mournful relief. Tension coiled within the room as his sentinels closed rank around him, their unease with her presence obvious. She’d been like a little sister to them before she’d left.

He’d have to play this right. Her abrupt departure had come across as a betrayal to many of his pack. Though he loathed the task, he needed to confront her, demand answers on where the hell she’d been. They’d mourned her.

Because he had.

Wrapping her in his arms and kissing away whatever hell she’d endured wouldn’t get his pack on board with protecting her. Her terrified gaze warned him whatever the reason for her disappearance wasn’t going to settle well with him. Or the pack.

The need to protect his people overrode his personal desires. For now. “What the hell are you doing here, Mira?”

Mira closed her eyes and allowed relief to flood her veins. For one brief moment she could embrace the euphoria of knowing Adrik lived. His pack had survived. Seven hundred and thirty two sleepless, pain-filled nights of worrying had come to an end. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

God, she’d missed him.

He’d been an enemy when he and his pack warriors first arrived to turn farmers and middle-aged men into hardened resistance fighters. What a joke, she’d thought. Somehow Adrik replaced her distrust with curiosity.

Mira had watched Adrik for days, memorizing the way he moved, the cadence of his voice. Enthralled by him, she’d pleaded with her brother to allow her to join the movement. Eron had been against it, but soon realized she wouldn’t accept no. As a runner for The Alliance, she’d spent countless days sprinting across the barren lands between The Alliance camp and Redemption, carrying intel and provisions.

Adrik and his pack had welcomed her, offered her moments of normalcy in an otherwise bleak existence. She’d fallen in love with him before she realized. Then everything upended.

And now she returned to the one place she’d felt protected. Wanted.

To The Alliance, she’d only ever be Eron’s little sister. They had no expectations, no need for her at all. In the darkest moments of her incarceration she’d wondered how long it’d taken them to notice she wasn’t there.

Adrik probably noticed five days afterward—when she’d been expected to return to Redemption for another provisions run.

Her fingers ran along the electronic scanner on her left wrist. How many credits had she received for the nightmare she’d endured? She’d expected an uphill battle to get Adrik’s help, but she hadn’t expected outright animosity. It was justified, she supposed. The last time he’d seen her, they’d almost…and then argued over what ifs, and then hell had broken loose. Literally.

The palpable rage flowing off him battered her defenses and crumbled her into a thousand fragmented pieces. The hurt, the accusation darkening his gaze did what the NAH hadn’t achieved. The hope she’d harbored dimmed. She needed his understanding, his help. Leaving him would’ve never entered her mind.

NAH forces had grabbed her shortly after she left Redemption. Imprisoned without cause, she’d been “tried” and “convicted” as a spy for The Alliance. Sentenced to two years, she’d been carted off to a sector facility to serve her time as a “volunteer.”

Most Impures accepted the existence of the NAH facilities. They offered an easy way for people to get credits needed to survive. All they needed to do was spend two years as a lab rat for the organization that’d declared them unworthy of residing with humanity. When added to the convenient fact they wouldn’t remember the two years they spent there, the NAH had more volunteers than needed.

Mira loathed the sector facilities even before she’d been captured. She doubted anyone realized they sometimes used captives as “volunteers.” Eventually she’d need to get word to The Alliance. They needed to know their runners were at risk.

What mattered now was getting someone to take down the facility where she’d been held captive because infiltrating it wouldn’t be a violation of the treaty. It’d been in Hell’s Playground—the area of land no one controlled. Apparently the five known sector facilities weren’t the only ones around.

She shuddered under Adrik’s scrutiny and forced the shards of fractured memories aside. Later she’d fall apart. Right now she didn’t have the time or energy.

“What the hell are you doing here, Mira?”

Collapsing against the examination table seemed wise, but untended wounds burned along her back. She bit her tongue and suppressed the discomfort. Adrik didn’t need melodrama right now. His tense posture and crossed arms made her heart ache.

He wasn’t the Adrik she remembered.

“Hear me out and then I’ll leave. I swear.”

“Five minutes, Mira. Then I turn Peyton loose on your ass.” The female wolf behind him snarled in approval.

Bitch. They’d never gotten along. Five minutes to explain away seven hundred and thirty two days of hell and beg him for help.

“The NAH grabbed me.”

“Try again,” Adrik replied.

“We contacted Impure Embassy headquarters. You weren’t listed as a casualty, a prisoner or a volunteer,” Sweet, ruthless Marek added with a grim look. Damn, she’d missed the chess matches they had—the ones she always lost.