Chapter 4

FOUR

Max

I find a corner booth and slide into it, then flag down a waitress and order a tall beer. Normally, I wouldn’t drink while on the job, but today isn’t a normal day. Today, I see my brother for the first time since we both joined the military when we turned eighteen eight years ago. We’d talked since then, a lot , and frequently, but talking on the phone and actually seeing each other are two completely different things.

Especially given the circumstances.

The fact that both our jobs require a lot of classified work means meeting in person would be very different than our phone calls. Because while we speak to each other often, we both understand that there is a lot we aren’t saying, and that always creates some distance. With friends. In relationships. In everything in life. Distance I hope to ease with this next step.

But at least he gets me, even if we’re very different people. And that’s a rare and special thing.

The waitress comes back and puts a beer down in front of me. "Anything else, sweetie?" She flashes me a smile, but it's hesitant. Something I'm used to.

When you go around dressed like a character from Men in Black people tend to treat you like you're someone to watch out for. Mob boss ready to snap my fingers and kill someone? The government here to make you disappear? I like to think I dress nice enough not to be confused with any other government agent, but who the hell knows? Maybe that's just in my head.

"I'm good. Just meeting someone. Although he'll probably have beer too."

"Should I bring one now?" She shifts from one foot to the other. Maybe a sign she's been on her feet all day and just wants to take a load off. Or a sign that she wants to get as far from my table as possible. I’d need to observe her longer to be sure which.

"No, it's okay, he won't want it flat, and he has a tendency to be late." I try to offer her a smile, but I know it doesn't reach my eyes.

"Just let me know," she says, then hurries away from me to go check on her other table on the far side of the bar.

Which leaves me alone and bored, trying not to care that my brother is late. I try hard not to see it as a sign that I made a mistake with all of this, because that's a thought path I don't want to go down right now.

My mind drifts to the white-haired spitfire waiting for me at the diner. A sigh longs to escape from the back of my throat. The woman is… irritating to say the least. Completely illogical. And a pain in the ass. If she wasn’t essential to this mission, I’d have been done with her long ago.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. If I told my bosses that Asha wouldn’t be helpful with this mission, they’d immediately have her locked up. Not because she’s shown any signs of being a dangerous Blood Mage, but because regardless of the fact that she’s shown herself to be just like any other supernatural, she is a Blood Mage now. And no amount of good behavior will change her label.

So even though she’s irritating, frustrating as hell, I’ll deal with her. Because I understand her desire to find the last members of her pack. To try to save them from the dark magic that calls to them. And no matter how different we are, I can respect a person with those kinds of motivations.

Even though there’s the other issue with her. The one that bothers me more than anything else. The one that makes it hard for me to sleep… hard for me to be close to her or to touch her. Asha's personality and mine might be opposite ends of a spectrum, but I'm drawn to her beyond anything I can comprehend. In a way that makes my mouth dry. In a way that makes me say all the dumbest things to her. She makes me feel like a boy trying to give his crush a flower.

And I do not enjoy feeling this way.

I'm usually very focused and never have to worry about any sexual affairs getting in the way of my work. With Asha, I'm terrified that my self-control won’t be strong enough. And self-control is one thing I value above all else. Without it, I believe most shifters would completely give in to their animal sides. The sides that often get us into trouble.

Still, I briefly let myself wonder if things could be different if she was a full shifter. Perhaps, she'd even be my mate? I shake my head, surprised by the anger that rises inside of me. Feeling a connection to someone and actually finding one's mate are two entirely different things. Yes, it bothers me to see her in pain from her nightmares. And it bothers me that a deep instinct inside of me screams to keep her safe. But, I take a deep breath, none of that means anything. Not really.

I care about people. That’s just how I am.

But to that level? It’s just plain unsettling.

I push the thoughts aside. Helping people is my forte. That’s all this is. My desire to help her when I can see she badly needs it. If only she'd be more open and let me in, then I could… not fix her, but improve her life. I know for a fact that I can, just like I know that she'll never give me that privilege. She sees me as an enemy, and maybe, that's just what I am.

Damn it. None of this matters. I have a mission. She’s a tool to help me complete that mission. That’s all. It doesn’t have to be complicated.

I hate complicated.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I inhale sharply, trying to decide what I’m reacting to, but all I can scent is beer, greasy food, and sweat. Nothing to alarm me.

Eyes narrowed, I search the bar… and spot him. My brother. And, hell, he’s changed. More than I thought possible. Yes, I’d seen photos of him, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him in person. His black hair, several shades darker than my brown hair, has been left to grow longer for the first time since joining the military. It falls a little over his forehead, drawing attention to the way his face and body have changed.

I was always bigger than him. From the day we were born, he was often mistaken for my little brother, never for my twin. He’d always had narrow shoulders. Had never been able to gain a pound no matter how much he tried to bulk up.

Those problems are long gone. Now, he’s big. Probably bigger than me. Wearing a green t-shirt and jeans, with tattoos covering his arms, he looks like a real soldier. Someone who has done things. Someone who has seen things. Not the little boy who followed me around our whole lives, looking to me for guidance.

And yet, he’s still that boy deep down.

His gaze suddenly meets mine, and the moment he sees me, I break into a wide grin. No matter how much doubt I have about the report I’d read about him, I love him with everything in me and would do anything for him. Even take a chance on him, one that could ruin the career I’ve so carefully built.

His grin is as wide as mine when he reaches me, and I stand up to envelop him in a hug. A hug that proves that while we might still be the same height, he is bigger. Broader at least.

"Yo, bro. You look good, man," he says before he sits down.

I reclaim my seat. "You too, although you didn't tell me that you've gotten more tattoos," I say before I can stop myself and then regret it right after, afraid that I sound judgmental. He knows I’m not big into ink, but I sure as hell don't want us to start off on a rough note.

"C'mon, man, it's just one of those things." That’s all he says with a flash of a smile. If he’s annoyed, he doesn't show it.

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Why the hell is this so hard? But the answer comes easily. Because he’s starting over, and I’m trying to help him and taking a big risk to do it… but I don’t want to put that on him. And maybe with the rest of the world I’m good at holding back, but not with Braxton. Not ever.

"I've missed you," I tell him honestly as he motions to the waitress to bring him a beer too.

“Same,” he says, leaning back in the booth like we’re just two normal brothers having a casual beer.

Which is probably as far from the truth as it can get.

"So how was your service? Really ?" Meaning, don't give me the bullshit answer we gave each other over the phone. Here, between us, we can be honest. He can tell me anything, and he knows it'll stay between us.

Braxton's face changes slightly, taking on an uncomfortable look, like it isn't something he wants to talk about. "You know how it is," he says, giving a little shrug, but I can read the shadows in his face. The ones I can't see over the phone.

Fuck. Something powerful builds in my chest. A protective instinct that makes me have to swallow down a growl. My "baby" brother shouldn't have been in half the shitty positions he was placed in in the military. I'd heard it was our aptitude tests that put us onto such different paths. That mine led to the military mostly putting me into safer positions, while his placed him right in the center of the target. I still didn’t know why. The report I’d received on him had more redacted than included, but the basic details spelled out that he’d been in a lot of bad places, and pissed off a lot of powerful people.

Had I known what they did back then when they chose his placement... well, I couldn't have changed a goddamn thing, but I imagine I'd kill every person who threw him to the wolves. Figuratively and literally speaking.

But, unfortunately, I hadn't known most of the hell he'd been through until I read his file just recently. He'd been sent on missions that were excessively dangerous after the military had learned he was a shifter. He had been through hell and back, that was obvious just from his medical records, although his file had enough redacted that I was sure it was worse than I even imagined.

"Braxton." I'm trying like hell to pick my words carefully. "I read your file."

His face actually goes a few shades paler. "How much... what did you read? Anything interesting?"

Man, I've never seen him this guarded. Not with me. Whatever he went through, it was definitely worse than he was letting on. "It was enough. Enough to tell me you'd seen the devil himself."

He nods and glances down. We both do, and I see his hands are clenched so hard his knuckles are white. He relaxes them, then our gazes meet again. "I'm fine."

I'm fine. The most classic words in the world to let someone know you aren't.

And I'm about to say exactly that when the waitress drops off a beer for him. "Thanks, ma’am!" He flashes her those famous dimples, and I can practically see her melt.

"Anything else?" She's fluttering her eyelashes like she's trying to put out the fire on her flushed face.

"Another one would be nice," he tells her, his voice practically a purr.

She giggles. Actually giggles. The woman who looked like she wanted to mace me a few minutes ago. "I got you, sweetie." Then, she's off.

I sigh and look at him. "Have you become a ladies' man?"

He grabs his beer in those massive hands of his. "Jealous?"

I laugh, which isn't something I do very often. "I guess it's only fair after I got all the ladies for most of our lives."

"High school is over and there's a new prom king in town," he tells me in a teasing voice, then tips back his beer and drinks. The whole damn thing.

"Whoa, work day, man." Fuck. Did I just say that?

He slams the empty mug down. "Still a square, I see?"

I shake my head with a chuckle, then remember that he was already late arriving. Checking my watch, I feel my heartbeat pick up. Asha isn't exactly patient, so as much as I want to relax and talk, that's not what we're here for. "We need to talk about the mission."

"Okay, something other than what they told me in my debriefing?" He's studying his empty mug like it did him wrong.

I clear my throat, not sure how to approach this with my brother, other than to be straight. "As you're aware, there is a group known as the Blood Mages. They are half vampire, half mage. And they fully embraced their stereotype of insane and dangerous mixed breeds.” He doesn’t even blink, so I conclude he was told this much already. I press on. “We're not entirely sure how it occurred, but they were able to imprison several dozen people from a pack of half-breeds the Enforcers were watching, the Blood Pack, and then proceeded to experiment on them. Many of the prisoners died. Others escaped and have since reigned chaos all over the country."

"That's a lot of ‘Blood’ this and that," he says.

The waitress comes by and drops off another mug, flashing him a smile. "Anything else?"

"Another beer, please, ma’am," he tells her.

"Actually, no more beer, but we’ll probably get some food. We’re on a bit of time crunch though…" I tell her.

She barely tears her eyes off my brother. “No problem, our kitchen is fast. There’s a menu on the wall, or more at the back of your table.”

We both thank her, and then check out the menu on the wall as our waitress hurries off again.

My brother drinks his beer, this time a little slower. "That was all covered in the file."

That's true, but I was just laying down the basics before diving into the hard stuff. "What's not in the file is just how horrific this pack has become. They were absolutely victims of the Blood Mages, but now they've become monsters just like their tormentors. All of them were shifters with some mix of other supernaturals in them, and now they've also had 'mage' mixed in. So, they can do magic... but it's dark magic. Magic that's wrong. That requires blood to fuel it." And before he can say that he knows that too, I push on. "And what we're going to see on this mission is going to be bad. Maybe even worse than what you experienced in the military."

I don't add on that this is his chance to back out, to accept he isn't ready for this, because we both know that's what I'm saying.

He nods, as if he was expecting that. "Don't worry about me. I can handle it."

“Braxton, I mean it. You’re finished with the military. You don’t need to go into another career filled with death and blood.” And maybe deep down I don’t want him to. After all he’s been through, he deserves a little peace in his life.

“You went from the military to being an Enforcer,” he tells me, lifting a brow.

He’s not wrong. “But I’m–”

“Stronger? Tougher? Built for this?” He laughs with a shake of his head. “Maybe once upon a time I was soft, brother, but I’m not any longer.”

Soft? Is that what he thinks? Braxton was never soft. He cried easier. He had more emotions. He was scared of monsters in the dark and often slept in my bed, but that never made him soft. He was simply more sensitive, more open in a way I envied, and I never wanted to take part in destroying that piece of him, no matter how badly my boss had said Braxton wanted this job. My boss had made it clear that if I didn’t take my brother onto my team, he wouldn’t get a position with the Enforcers. I’d never take this opportunity from him, but I also need him to be sure that this is what he wants.

“Having emotions doesn’t make you soft.” He’s about to interrupt, so I lift a hand. “If you want this, then I’ll support you.”

The fight goes out of his eyes. “I don’t just want this, Max. I need it.”

So that’s the end of it.

I pull out the file on Asha's pack from my jacket and place it on the table. "This file contains basic information about the Blood Pack and Blood Mages, but more than what you learned when you signed on. Most of the details are classified, even from you, but I believe it has everything you need to know for the new mission that you're jumping into. I think it's better you read this first. I'll fill you in on any missing parts," I say, pushing the file his way.

"I don't care what it says, I can handle this." There's a challenge in those soft blue eyes of his. Like he doesn’t think me giving him the file was showing him I accept him, but more my way of trying to scare him.

So, I decide to clear that up right away. The worst thing a leader can do is make those working for him feel like they don’t have their trust. "I'm sure you can, but read it." He's going to argue, so I stop him before he can. "If you’re going to join this mission, you'll need to have read it."

He gives me a pointed look, then picks up the file and opens it. Instantly, his demeanor changes, and he leans back against the booth. His brows draw together, and I'm sure he's feeling the same way I did when I read the file. Horrified. Curious. Angry. Sad.

If it was just a book, it'd be good one. But because it really happened, it's the kind of thing that shakes your entire world and leaves you reeling. Changes your perspective so all you see are monsters in the shadows of your life, monsters you never realized were there.

Not that I can think about that. Not when I have a job to do.

While he's catching up, I order light food for us, aware that Asha is waiting for me and could get agitated with my continued absence. I get us both lightly cooked burgers and fries, the kind of carb-filled food shifters need on the regular, since we burn calories so quickly.

After a few minutes, the food arrives and I dig in, only realizing how hungry I am when the salty French fries hit my taste buds. Braxton, on the other hand, is eating one-handed, his gaze never lifting from the pages of the file, his eyes wide.

Finally, Braxton pauses in his reading and asks, "So our mission is to kill all the remaining members of the Blood Pack?"

I think of Asha and my answer comes easily, "No, we're to try to save any that we can... any of them who we're able to reason with. But, yes, the others we have orders to take out, if needed."

He looks a little relieved, which I'm glad about. Braxton was never the bloodthirsty sort, and I can't see him doing something he's ethically against, even with orders to do so. It's nice to see that hasn't changed about him.

"And how the hell are we supposed to find them before an attack? It seems like they're attacking all over the country. And by the time we reach them, they're gone." His question is a good one. The exact one the Enforcers have been struggling with.

I release a slow breath. "There hasn't been a perfect solution, but our team has the best chance of capturing the rest of the Blood Pack."

His gaze moves from the file, and he closes it while carefully setting it down. "Why?"

"It's off the record." Of course it is, or he would have read it in the file.

"Go on." He draws out the words, watching me too closely.

And I feel stupid. Stupidly protective. He's going to know in a few minutes anyway, so why am I hesitating? "I caught one of the members of the Blood Pack. She's... well, she's willing helping our team to track them down."

His brows lift so far that they disappear into his dark hair. "And is she crazed and dangerous?"

I shake my head. "Well, she can be dangerous for sure, but her goal is to reach her remaining pack members before the other Enforcers kill them all. She thinks she can talk to them, reason with them. And the Enforcers felt it was worth a shot."

"And how is she going to do any better at finding them than the rest of the Enforcers?" He looks like he's trying to put puzzle pieces together that just don't fit together.

I push my plate away, hesitate, then go for it. "It’s been suggested that her abilities could help us find them, but she'll need more than me to do it."

"Why?" Suspicion fills his voice.

I tug at my collar, then realize what I'm doing and stop. "Her powers are fueled by blood. And, well, if she experiments with them, she might need more than me to keep control over her. To keep her fueled."

It hits him. I see it. "You want a group of Enforcers to act as Feeders to some vampire mixed breed?" He’s shocked, but not quite outraged.

"The Enforcers said they'd never typically let you join them given whatever is in your military record, although they didn’t specify what, but felt this was an opportunity for you. An opportunity they don't plan to give again. Still, if you're not okay with this..."

He lifts a hand. "I didn't say that."

"And our mission will be dangerous. Literally, she'll lead us into the fire to deal with dangerous creatures that can kill us with ease."

To my surprise, he reaches for his burger and bites right into it. "Sounds good. So, I'll finish my burger, and then we'll go meet this dangerous Blood Mage."

I don't correct him, because I'm too damn surprised. Whatever my brother went through, whatever has him blacklisted from all government agencies, apparently, it’s enough that he’s willing to take on a job that might get him killed. A job where he’ll likely have to act as a Feeder to basically a vampire.

So, I have one more thing to add to my list of things to do: figure out what secrets my brother is hiding that made him agree so easily.