Chapter 6

SIX

Braxton

Max pays for our beers and food while I head outside. My chest aches in the strangest way, and I rub at it, trying to rub away the pressure. This was the right move. I know it was, so why does my body seem to disagree? Becoming an Enforcer, working with Max, was one of the only things I could do to try to find myself again. Because since being discharged from the military, I’d continued down a path that scared me.

So why does this path scare me too?

Probably because of the damn file. The pictures of shifter kids slaughtered in the streets. Of the buildings burned to the ground. Of whole families killed for no goddamn reason.

Fuck, I’m shaking. On the edge of losing control. I dig my nails into my palms, drawing blood, and, luckily, the pain brings me back from the edge. Away from the images in that file. Away from the images in my mind of what I’d seen while in the army.

Not just seen. Done.

Max comes out of the bar. “Ready to meet her?”

I nod, my stomach turning, and we cross the street, but even before we reach the diner Trouble comes limping toward me, and I kneel down. He licks my face, his stub of a tail going a million miles an hour. “You miss me, boy?” I ask.

In response, he licks me again.

Grinning, I look at the kid. “Thanks, Brian.”

Brian smiles back at me. “No problem, sir. He’s a good boy.”

“That he is,” I tell him with a smile.

The kid scampers back inside and takes his stool at the counter. His mom had been a waitress at the diner when I’d come in earlier to get my head in the game and grab a cup of coffee. Her son, Brian, had volunteered to walk Trouble for me, and after his mom had told me just how much he wanted a dog I’d agreed. A walk with a kid would be better than just sitting outside waiting for me. So, I’d paid him to watch the little guy while I waited for my brother.

I couldn’t, after all, be at the bar early. Not when my brother expected me to be late. What fun would that be?

As I stand to my full height, Trouble takes his place faithfully at my side. That’s one thing about him: he’s well-trained. I don’t know how, but he is.

My gaze meets my brother’s and I swear the temperature drops.

“What is that ?”

I flash him a smile. “Trouble.”

“ Clearly ,” he says dryly. “But why is he with you?”

“He’s my partner,” I tell him with a shrug.

“You can’t have a pet.” And, man, he seems mad.

“No problem, because Trouble isn’t a pet. Like I said, he’s my partner.”

My brother squares off with me, lowering his voice. “Braxton, Enforcers have to give up a lot. Most of us can’t have kids, or families, or pets. It’s just the nature of the job. Having that dog with us will only slow us down.”

My stomach flips and something snaps inside of me at just the thought of Trouble no longer being at my side. “You don’t know a goddamn thing. Trouble was there for me when no one else was. He was there when buildings were crumbling around me, and bullets were slamming into my chest. He curled around me, not aware that as a shifter I’d be better off than him. He didn’t even seem to care about anything but me when he got stuck under some rubble. He didn’t know me for shit, but he stayed. And I stayed with him afterward. I got him fixed up. I got him flown over with me. And he’s been by my side ever since. This isn’t a goddamn pet. He’s not a creature that will slow us down. He’s my partner. And if you don’t want him, you don’t get me.”

When I finally stop talking, I’m shocked, and by the look on my brother’s face, he’s shocked too. But I meant what I said. There are no words to explain what Trouble means to me. There are no words to explain how much I need him. This dog will be fine without me. He’s smart, capable, and a beautiful creature. I’m the one who needs him. I need him to remind me that I have a reason to live. I need him to care for, so I remember to care for myself.

Without him, I’m pretty damn sure I’d just stop breathing.

After a minute of staring at me, my brother nods. “Okay, but you’re responsible for him, and I won’t slow down for him.” His words are tough, but his voice is gentle, like maybe he has some sense of just how much I need Trouble.

“You won’t have to.” I realize I’m standing at attention when Trouble rubs his wet nose against my hand, and I calm, letting my muscles relax.

“Let’s go get her,” he says, as if we didn’t just have a blowout, then heads for the diner.

That’s one thing about Max. He likes rules. He likes everything to run just so. But underneath all that, he cares about people. He cares about animals. He has a big squishy heart that makes him impossible not to love.

I guess that maybe I’m the only one of us who has completely changed.

Unfortunately, inside the diner, there’s no dangerous Blood Mage. And no one seems to have a clue where she might have gone. After we search the place and ask everyone questions, Max just stands frozen for a second, looking around as if she might have blended in with the yellow wallpaper. Looking like he’s on the verge of losing all control, he marches out to a black SUV in the parking lot and throws the door open.

I stare at my brother silently, slightly amused at his behavior. Even though it's obvious he's genuinely angry. The thing is, Max never lets anything ruffle his feathers, and this has.

What makes it all the funnier is that he's muttering something about that stubborn woman, like she's a thorn in his side and he's officially reached his limit. He's quite literally tearing through their car, as if losing track of this woman for a short time is a national emergency. What the hell is up with my bro? I thought he said she wasn’t that dangerous.

"She isn't anywhere, dammit, and I can't pick up her scent either. If I get a hold of her..." he says, clenching his fists tightly, yellow flashing around his irises.

Threats? Losing control? Well, fuck. This isn't Max.

"So does this woman usually stay when you tell her to stay?" I ask him, trying to keep my tone light as I pet Trouble’s head. The dog is giving me that look, like he sees Max is in distress and wants to go to him, but Max has just barely accepted my best friend, so I warn Trouble to stay with a firm hand on his head.

And like usual, he stays put. Like the creature can read my thoughts.

My twin stops tossing things around and turns to glare at me. "I'm aware she's not a dog."

Okay, that joke didn’t land. "So why does it matter if she decided to do some shopping, or whatever?"

His glare deepens as he chucks something into the backseat. "You read about what happened to her pack!"

"And based on what you told me, I’ve concluded that she has the potential to be dangerous, but isn't. Plus, she's willingly helping the Enforcers. So, she can both take care of herself and has a motivation to come back here."

Max snorts. "Like hell."

I blink slowly at him. "If I'm the calm, rational one and you're the explosive one, there's really something wrong with this situation."

He looks like he might punch me for the briefest moment but then sighs and collapses back against the driver's seat, staring at the diner. "Asha is complicated, but at least she tries to obey my commands. I asked her to wait for me at the diner, but according to the staff, she freely left on her own. Which means she disobeyed me, which is not good given the thin ice she's already on with the Enforcers. What's more, she has no idea that going outside of my protection is a bad idea."

"Protection from what?"

He stares at his hands in obvious frustration. "Asha has a target on her back in far too many ways. On the most basic level, Enforcers, and those who associate with us, always have to be careful. Which includes her now. But that's not her only threat. There are also all the families of the people who have been hurt by Blood Mages that want revenge, and we can't be sure whether they know about her. Along with the other supernaturals who might want her for their own reasons. And that's not including the fact that she's not a pure shifter, which in itself is enough for people to hate her."

Well, shit, okay, maybe he's right to be worried.

He continues, while shaking his head. "The woman absolutely shouldn't be out by herself, both because she could be hurt and because she could go down if she hurts someone else."

Yeah, that's obvious now. "So, you think someone possibly took her after she left the diner?" I ask, my chest suddenly feeling tight.

"I don't know," he tells me, which says more than he realizes.

"What's the deal? Is there a possibility that she doesn't want to be here and has escaped? Because if you don't know if she's been hurt, but you're this worried, that's the only thing I can conclude…"

He glares at me. "She doesn't want to be here, alright, but I was under the impression that she was smart enough to know why she should be. So, I sincerely don't know. And if she just left for a short time to screw with me and I call my bosses, I've fucked her. But if she's running away or in danger and I don't call, I'm fucking myself. And you."

Interesting. The choice should be easy: fuck her. So why is my brother hesitating?

"So, what now? I don't think she’s gone far; maybe we should try looking for her?"

He runs his hand through his hair and I can see the frustration lining his temples. He's not pleased one bit. If this Asha person makes Max this way, then she must be something.

I can't wait to meet her and figure out her secret to pissing my bro off.

"Let's go to the motel. Maybe she went there when I didn't come out in time."

He climbs out of the SUV and I follow with Trouble trailing us, no longer amused at the situation. If it's important to Max that he finds this woman, then I'm going to help him. She is, after all, our mission now. As strange as that is for me to wrap my head around.

Me. Having missions outside of the military. A purpose connected to the only thing I've even been good at.

A job I can't afford to screw up. I guess there are worse problems.

When we enter the motel room, everything looks to be in place, and there's no sign of the girl he's looking for. What’s more, Trouble sniffs around and then settles on a spot beneath the TV. Not something he’d be doing if he sensed danger. Within seconds, I know she hasn't been here recently. And that no fight or abduction took place.

But Max doesn't seem to have come to the same conclusion. He searches the room and the bathroom, then smells her bag, frowning.

Oh, Max, what the hell is fucking with your logic? This is another dead end. It is time for him to face the hard truth: the girl had probably escaped. Either that, or she was taken. But regardless, our protocol is probably similar to what it is in the military. Inform our superiors and wait for instructions.

Or, do what I do best and fuck myself over by listening to my gut instead of my head. Sniff this woman down around town and handle it ourselves.

Not that Max would ever do anything so stupid.

To my surprise, that familiar stoic look comes over his face, and he checks his watch. "We search for her. For the next twenty minutes. Then, we call it in."

"Is that protocol?" I ask, surprised.

His dark eyes meet mine. "I'll let any consequences for this fall solely on my shoulders."

I try to hide my shock. My brother… the big, bad rule breaker?

He doesn't say anything more, just heads for the door. His jaw is clenched; his eyes are narrowed.

But then, Trouble leaps to his feet. Looking at the door, he barks and growls in a way that has me dropping into a crouch, prepared for hell. Trouble has exceptional instincts, so whatever he’s sensing, I know it’s bad.

“Quiet him down,” Max says, but he sounds confused rather than angry.

“Just wait,” I say, then hold my breath.

Suddenly, the door opens.

A woman staggers into the room, her long blonde hair falling over her face, walking as if it’s taking everything out of her just to put one foot in front of the other. Blood runs down her arms and her chest, coating her shirt and staining her hair. She takes another step into the room, then collapses onto her knees.

Max is there in an instant, catching her before she drops to her side. His reflexes are somehow faster than mine. The look on his face is determined as he stands with her in his arms, then carries her to a bed.

Trouble is at his side, looking at Asha with his stubby tail down in a way that tells me he’s upset, but he’s no longer on the defensive. He simply whines, seeming concerned about the tiny woman.

Reaching into my pocket, I take out the little square of green fabric, part of one of the uniforms, and give it to him. Trouble snatches it and sulks across the room before sitting in a corner, snuggling with his “blankie,” even though he still looks upset.

Max sits with her in his lap, his hand moving with certainty as he inspects her for any broken bones or major injuries, and probably for the source of the blood too. Although the claw marks and the shredded clothes are a dead giveaway. A look of worry comes and goes on his face in an instant, and then he says, "Asha?"

She doesn't respond.

He combs her hair back from her face, and I stiffen, instantly recognizing her as the beautiful woman from the diner. The one who smelled like heaven, like wildflowers and wind laced with a coming storm. But it’s more than that. My entire body reacted to her scent in a strange and surprising way that I’d never experienced before. If I hadn’t already been late to meet Max, I would have stopped and at the very least introduced myself to her.

In fact, I’d been kicking myself for walking away ever since. And now, here she is. Bleeding. Broken. Being held by my brother like she’s someone precious to him.

I didn't even realize I took a step closer to her until Max glances up at me, and I realize I’m closer than I was a moment before.

"You might want to go." His words are clipped, not quite harsh, but not like him either.

"Go?" Is that what he thinks of me? That right now my instinct is to leave? Fuck, I wonder what he read in my file. I wonder if he knows my deepest, darkest secrets and now thinks of me as less than a man.

If he does, I’m going to show him each and every day that he’s wrong. That the military is wrong. That I am someone of worth. A man.

Drawing my shoulders back, I stare down at him and the woman. "Not a chance. Now, how can I help?"

His gaze is back on the woman in his arms. "She has broken bones, deep gashes, and internal bleeding. If she were a human, these injuries would be a death sentence."

That’s obvious. So why tell me?

I decide to state the obvious. "But as a shifter… it'll just be painful weeks of healing. Can we get her pain meds? Then tend to her wounds? I’m sure you have about as much first aid knowledge as I do, so if we can get our hands on some pain meds, we can probably handle everything between us. Then, we’ll bunk down here for a while."

His mouth pulls into a thin line. "They won't give us the time. If she's not useful for weeks, the Enforcers will just imprison her."

The woman winces, her eyelids fluttering.

Did she hear his cruel words? Does she understand what’s at stake here?

"So, what do we do?" The easy answer is to call our superiors. But, clearly, when it comes to this woman, we don't go with the easy answer.

"Asha." He says her name with authority. "I need you to wake up."

What the hell is the plan here? "Max…"

"Go," he snaps at me.

What? So, he can wake the woman up to fully experience her pain? And then let her know she's no longer useful to us?

That's fucking cold.

"Waking her up won't change the simple fact–"

"Your commander gave you an order." His words are laced with a growl.

My damn commander? He's already going to play that card?

"If you read my file, you know I'm not good at following orders," I snap back at him, even knowing how unwise I'm being. But something here isn't adding up, and I'm determined to figure out what.

There's a long pause, then a shake of his head as he stares down at her. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Warn me about what?

Then he glances down at the supposedly dangerous woman. "Asha, it's time for you to wake up."

She winces and gives a tiny groan.

He shakes her a little, and my teeth clench. "Wake up, you stubborn woman!"

Her eyes crack open, and the blue of her irises is startling against her pale, blood-stained face. "Huh?"

"Max, maybe she should just rest…" How the hell did my brother get this cruel?

"Asha?" Her gaze moves unsteadily to his face as he speaks. "Feed on me."

Feed?

She starts to shake her head, then cries out in obvious pain.

He pulls back his collar and lifts her face to his throat. "Do it," he tells her, his voice a command.

And it all hits me. Holy shit, she's part vampire! So, feeding will help her heal. But Max hates vampires. Shifters in general hate vampires. The fact that he's willing to let her do this instead of just letting her be imprisoned makes my stomach flip. It makes me question his judgment and my own. Because normally I wouldn’t give two fucks about an injured vampire, but I find myself kind of rooting for this to work, even though my stomach is turning at the idea of my own brother being a blood bag to a vamp.

My hands curl into fists. Do I tell him not to do this? Do I just watch and make sure he doesn't let her drain him too far?

I don't know what to do because recent events have made me question myself, so I just stare. I stare and remember how Max basically explained that part of my role here would be letting her feed on me. I’d agreed to it easily, but only because I had to. Not because I wanted to. And now, here, getting to see my new responsibility unfold in front of me… I don’t know what to think.

Weakly, Asha raises her face and I see two tiny fangs protrude from her mouth before she latches onto my brother's throat. My breathing grows more rapid, from anxiety or rage, I’m not sure. All I know is that she's actually feeding , using my brother like some kind of a blood cow.

It's strange. She smells like a wolf but at this moment, she’s fully a vampire, which makes me sick. I don't want my brother sacrificing himself like this for a job. Somehow, it seems disrespectful. Different. Even though I did a hell of a lot of things I'm not proud of in the military.

I'm prepared to pull her off of him. Ready to see him suddenly struggling to get away, but not being able to. Something alarming.

But that's not what I see.

Instead, Max's hand slides into the back of her hair, pulling her closer. His eyes flutter shut and his lips part. The tension in his face falls away, and he looks… almost happy. Relaxed even. But something more than that, like he’s enjoying her feeding on him.

I almost look away. Uncomfortable for reasons I don't understand. And then, it clicks.

People say that vampire feeding can be orgasmic to both the person feeding and the person being fed from, but I thought that it was peculiar to vampires. Until now.

My brother isn’t just happy and enjoying this experience. It’s almost like watching him get a blow job. There’s just no fucking way he’s not enjoying her touch.

Every muscle in my body tenses. I’ve shared women with my military buddies before. Shifters are even more willing to share women than a lot of the other supernaturals, but I never thought seeing my brother with a woman would be this… hot. And she’s not even fucking him or sucking him off, she’s feeding on him.

Despite logically knowing that, I feel myself grow hard. I feel the tension singing through my body that I know only comes from my arousal. And I can still smell her delicate scent, still picture her the way she was in that diner, and it has my head spinning. I long to reach down and pull myself free and stroke my cock until completion.

And then, strangely, I start to picture being in Max’s position. With that woman in my lap. With her lips against my throat, her breath on my skin. And… hell, I have to bite down a groan.

Suddenly, she jerks away from him, her lips stained with his blood. I watch as she licks the blood from her lips, and then her eyes close once more. She falls back in his arms in a way that’s alarming, but the slow rise and fall of her chest says she’ll be okay. And, if she’s like most vampires, the blood she just drank should be already doing its work, healing her broken body.

Max stares down at her for a long moment, and I see something in his face that makes me stare. Tenderness. With the way we were raised, with how much we lost, tenderness is something that both of us learned to hide. Even more so after we joined the military.

I know both our careers took massively different turns, but nothing about my phone calls with my brother have led me to believe he’s anything but the deeply broken man that I know I’ve become. But in this moment, he’s someone else. Someone so different from who I’ve become that it makes me angry. It’s like a damn knife twisting deep in my gut, because I know damn well I can never look at anyone like that, and no one will ever look at me like that either.

He suddenly looks up and our eyes meet. The tenderness fades from his face and he stands slowly, laying her down on the bed and covering her up. He doesn’t say it as he moves about the room, but I can sense it. His need to ask me if I’m sure about joining this mission.

Only, if he asks me, I might be tempted to tell him. It’s this or nothing for me. I have no other options. Nowhere else to go. No one else that will want me.

So, it’s this. No matter how fucked up it becomes.