Chapter 7

Quentin gawpedat him as if he couldn’t process what Kaine was saying. There was a storm within the young witch that wasn’t spilling out the way Kaine had expected. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

“You know? Have you known what you are your entire life?”

Kaine pressed his lips together. “No, I was told when I was fourteen, so I wouldn’t freak out when the first signs of being a shifter appeared. Until then, I was told I came from a family of fire witches. That is what most people believe I am. And that is how I want to keep it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s safer.”

Quentin finished his drink and crunched on a piece of ice. Kaine waited. He was good at waiting…mostly…far better than Dalmon. But the Shadow Board was pushing his patience.

His witch swallowed. “So, we can’t be mates because everyone thinks you’re a witch, but apparently, I’m a witch.”

“Not apparently.”

“And my parents?”

“It’s not hereditary the way shifting is. Being a witch is part of your soul.” Something they had only discovered after Dalmon re-found his fated mate. “Your parents did what they thought best, and by human standards, they thought they were helping.”

“It helped. You have no idea how much the medication cleared my mind.”

“By suppressing your magic…which is something else that needs to be looked at. Does it only work on your magic or on all magics?”

“There are other kinds of witches?”

“Many. And many kinds of shifters. You are dealing with this very well.”

Quentin nodded. “Can I have another drink?”

“I’d much rather gather all the intel I need to take action.”

“Are you going to do something tonight?”

Kaine opened his mouth and shut it. To take action, he’d need to pull people out of bed, and he wasn’t ready to spill his guts to Dalmon. His brothers would find this amusing. He might have if the timing wasn’t so shit…or did the Fates bring them together now for a reason?

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because it’s better than raging against the Fates about something that is already done.” That didn’t mean he was thrilled, though he’d be lying if there wasn’t a part of him that was delighted, and he didn’t know how to deal with that. He’d never wanted a mate. He’d checked his books, and he’d never had one. Or at least he hadn’t in the ones he could read, and he assumed that something as significant as a fated mate he would’ve mentioned, even if it was only to say he was searching for them.

“So we’re like married?”

“It’s a little more permanent than that.” He wasn’t ready to share the way it could be broken. It wasn’t fair to ask Quentin to give up his magic when he’d never had a chance to use it. He could become an asset to him and to the Coven.

Add in the dead language obsession…

Quentin was who he needed in so many ways.

“So if we hate each other too bad. Great. And I can’t even say I was drunk. Or that it happened in Vegas.”

“We aren’t going to hate each other.”

“Did you not just say I’m your prisoner?”

“You are my mate. My life is tied to yours, so it is my job to protect you and yours is to protect mine.”

“Sounds self-serving.”

Kaine nodded. “Yes. And the bond has been abused by others in the past. Traditionally by witches who bind a shifter and drain their strength and life.”

“So witches are the bad guys?”

“Some. Some shifters are. Some humans are. Nothing is black and white, Quentin. The people I am after are witches, but they have shifters working for them because they offer them protection and money and power.” What did the Shadow Board want from a bartender unless they knew he was a witch?

If they knew that, they were more than one step ahead of him.

“Which is what you’re doing. How can I be sure you’re the good guy?”

“You don’t. But feel free to read my mind and discover my intentions.”

Quentin stared at his empty glass. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“You do. You’ve never been taught how to control your magic or how to protect yourself from drowning in everyone’s thoughts, they are different things. Things you can learn.”

“And what if I don’t want to? I was happy. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

That wasn’t entirely true. “You wanted me…why?”

Quentin glanced up. “Because. You agreed.”

“It’s been months since I was with anyone. When you asked, I couldn’t say no, which should’ve been a warning, as you’re younger than I like.”

Quentin shrugged as though it wasn’t a problem for him. “You were hot, lonely, and writing in a forgotten alphabet. There was no way I wasn’t going to say something or give you my number.” He held out his glass. “Since you aren’t going to wake people up, let’s have another drink and enjoy the night before it all goes to hell tomorrow.”

“You pour. I’ll speak to security.”

“Security? You are security.”

“Yes, which is why I also have my own.”

“You didn’t have any at the bar. Or did you?”

“I didn’t, but when I stay somewhere, it is put on my floor.”

Quentin blinked as if all of this was so far beyond his comprehension.

“You will also be assigned a security detail.” When he was allowed to walk around. He’d also need to quit his job, but that was a conversation for another time. Kaine pushed off the desk and walked over to the door. It was only years of keeping secrets and dealing with threats that kept him calm. If he made a fuss, then others would follow his lead, and the mess would grow.

He had no problems with waking Dalmon at all hours, and his brother had done the same to him numerous times. This was not worthy of a late call.

And he didn’t want to spend the rest of the night pumping Quentin for answers. Tomorrow would come soon enough. There was still time for his mate to hate him before understanding the reasons.

He opened the door and felt the cold press of his pistol against his back.

Kaine sighed. He should’ve expected that. It wasn’t as though he’d hidden his weapons.

“Let me go,” Quentin said.

Kaine shook his head. “You won’t get past security.”

“Tell them to let me go.”

There’d been no click, so the safety was still on. Kaine doubted Quentin had ever handled a weapon. That needed to change. But not tonight.

He spun, catching and trapping Quentin’s arm. He yelped as Kaine pushed him against the wall and the pistol fell to the ground. He kicked it aside. “I thought you were taking this too well.”

Then Quentin started crying. He squeezed his eyes closed, but tears escaped and rolled over his cheeks.

“Is everything alright, sir?” A man said from the corridor.

He stared at his mate and hissed in his ear. “Is it?”

Quentin nodded, even though he was clearly not okay.

“We’re fine. Ensure no one disturbs us. We will leave together.” He lowered his voice. “Which means if you attempt to leave on your own, you will be cooling your heels in a cell until I let you out. Understand?”

He nodded again.

Kaine reached out and shut the door. Fury simmered in his blood. Was it too much to ask that his mate trust him? Want him? He bit back on the harsh words and pulled Quentin close, holding him and stroking his back until the sobs stopped and his breathing calmed.

“I know this is not what you were looking for. Neither was I. But the Fates have brought us together. And I am not going to throw a gift back at them.”

“I don’t know who they are.”

“Ancient goddesses. Perhaps the first, as they create, weave, and end lives. Sometimes, they weave the lives of a witch and shifter together.”

“So we can die together.”

“We can also be stronger, sharing our magic even if we aren’t close by. Running away will not end this.” It might, if they kept their distance. And if Quentin kept taking his medication and never let his magic bloom. But they were things he didn’t want to consider, which probably made him an asshole.

He’d never wanted a mate, but now he had one, he wasn’t letting him go, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone take him. His hand smoothed over Quentin’s bare back, wishing that they were enjoying the night together the way it should’ve been.

He hoped Quentin picked up that thought.

“Why aren’t you angry?”

“Because people do dumb shit when they’re scared and cornered. You’re just a highly developed animal with untested magic who was hoping to be fucked, not as you put it, wake up married.”

Quentin drew back and wiped a hand over his face. “And now I feel like an idiot.”

Kaine nodded. “Yeah. It would’ve been much better to wait until we’d left the hotel, but before we got into a car. Especially after I’d warned you there’s extra security on the floor.”

He frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. But I’m telling you, you picked the wrong time for an escape attempt, which means I’ll double down. If you ever get snatched up, don’t make the same mistake. It could cost both our lives.”

Quentin took a step back. “You’re serious?”

“I am. Let’s have that drink, then we can go to bed, or you can talk. Your choice. Tomorrow, I will make a few calls before we leave. You need to be seen?—”

“I have classes, and my father… He’ll wonder where I am.”

Kaine heard the doubt and felt the disappointment. He couldn’t read all of his mate’s thoughts, but there was enough for him to catch an idea. “Will he? Or will it take a few days before he notices?”

“Get out of my head.”

“Get into mine.” He clasped Quentin’s hands. “Get to know me. Give me a fucking chance because I would like the privilege of freaking out and having a major panic, but one of us has to remain in control and calm.”

“You really want to freak out?”

And if he gave in, he’d be on the phone to Dalmon and Gerrit, and they needed to focus on their own corners. He needed them, but the country and all paranormals needed them more. He could wait. Or do it on his own the way he had for most of his life, their brother in kind, but not in public, so there had always been a distance between them that couldn’t easily be bridged. He had no doubt that depending on their roles in each life, one of them was always in the same situation. And there was nothing he could do about it aside from making recommendations for next time.

“Yes. I wasn’t looking for a mate. The odds of it happening are so small that to crave it and seek it is setting yourself up for failure. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to make this work, and what that looks like depends on us. It doesn’t have to be more than mutual respect and magic.”

“But if I can read your mind and you can read mine, there is a lot of fun to be had…” He glanced away as if confused. “I shouldn’t be thinking about that.”

“Why not? Lust brought us here. It’s what triggered the bond?—”

“So if we’d ignored each other, nothing would’ve happened?”

“We’ve probably crossed paths several times before today, drawing towards each other until it was inevitable.”

“Lucky we’re both gay.”

“I’m not. But you’re pretty and smart. Exactly my type.”

“If I was smart, I would have spoken to someone weeks ago…”

“You want to do that?” Because Kaine didn’t know if he wanted to question him or hold him until they accidentally started kissing and fucking. In part, it was the bond, wanting to bind them tighter, but also his own need that he’d been pushing aside because he was too busy.

Quentin drew in a breath and nodded. “Then it’s out there.”

“Okay…it’s a brave thing to come forward. They count on people staying silent out of fear for themselves and their loved ones.”

“Is that your work voice?”

Kaine paused and re-ran what he’d just said through his head. “Possibly. I’m falling back on my training because then I know what I’m doing.”

“Lucky you. Maybe I should pour that drink and see if it calms me.”

“As long as you don’t attack me with the bottle.” Kaine gave a little laugh.

Quentin didn’t.

Too soon to be making jokes.

While Quentin poured two more whiskeys, Kaine retrieved his pistol off the floor and slipped it inside his jacket before pulling out his notebook.

“Do you want to take a seat?” Kaine indicated to the end of the bed.

“No, I’m getting into bed.” He got in on the side furthest from where Kaine had left his boots and weapons and dropped the towel on the floor.

Great, now there was no getting the fact he was naked out of his head. His dick gave a twitch as though it could pull him closer.

Then Quentin patted the bed. “It’s the only one.”

How could he question his mate in bed?

But it was where he wanted to be, so he grabbed his glass and walked over. However, he didn’t take off the robe or get under the covers. He took a sip, enjoying the way the whiskey slid down and bloomed hot in his gut, and then he flicked open to a new page. “Where would you like to start?”