Chapter 134

Nolan was being released from the hospital in the morning. After a week, they didn’t know what to do with him. The life-pak worked wonders. Every test and every scan came back better than expected. Thank fuck his wounds were slow to heal because they probably would’ve shipped the goddamn kid off somewhere to figure out what the hell he was. Admittedly, not my best-thought-out plan, but I didn’t regret it.

I had time to kill as Gabby insisted on taking Genevieve and Raven out to dinner—girl time and all that. My wife needed it, though I wasn’t sure how long she’d last before the panic settled in. She was good with straight to the hospital and back without getting anxious. Anywhere else and she struggled. I understood the jumpiness. Being kidnapped would fuck with anyone. I just wished I could convince her it’d be okay—that I’d do whatever it took to protect her.

Which was exactly why I was outside in the dark, across the street from the restaurant she was at, smoking and stalking my wife. I needed to stop stalking my own goddamn wife. Not tonight but definitely in the future. The very distant fucking future.

For now, I just wanted to know that she was okay, even if it meant standing out in the fucking cold as I watched her through a goddamn restaurant window. Maybe I had problems, but I didn’t care. I liked knowing she was safe.

Maybe my wife being kidnapped had done a fucking number on me too because not being around her was fucking rough—both her and our girls. Our girls. What a wild fucking concept. I wanted nothing more than to build a fucking tower to keep my wife in until I had a solid fucking plan to protect her. And could teach her how to protect herself.

I tipped my head to the wind, inhaling deeply as I caught the scent of leather and cinnamon gum. Oh fucking hell.

“Beau,” I growled as I listened to him approach.

“Stalkin’ your wife, Killy Boy?” Beau greeted cheerfully. He stopped beside me, hands shoved in his pockets, and rocked comfortably on his heels. “Possessive Daddy is a fun look on you.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I retorted. “What the fuck do you want?”

“The boss man wants to have a chat with you,” he told me. My heart fucking dropped out of my chest. Shit.

“I’m busy.”

“Don’t fuckin’ care.” His toothpick clicked on his teeth as he moved it around. “I got instructions to bring your ass in—willin’ or not. So, we doin’ this the easy way or the fun way?”

The grin he flashed me was downright terrifying. Yeah, I was in fucking trouble. I dropped my cigarette and rolled the sole of my boot over it.

“Lead the way, Beau,” I said. I refused to give him the satisfaction of making this hard. It was just easier to follow blindly because whatever Lane wanted, Lane would get.

“Always so borin’, Killy Boy.” Beau laughed. “We could’ve had some fuckin’ fun together.”

I stayed silent. Instead, I glanced over my shoulder one last time at Genevieve and took a moment to enjoy the happy smile on her face. I clung to that because whatever the hell Lane had in store for me, I knew I wouldn’t like it.

A nightclub was the last fucking place I expected Beau to take me. A dark alley in the middle of nowhere to be gutted had definitely been the fucking list of expectations. Instead, he walked me straight through an active club. Music vibrated against my bones, the smell of sweat was nauseating, and the neon lights gave me a damn near instant headache.

“Why the fuck are we in a club?” I shouted as I stuck close to Beau.

“Boss told you he was a businessman,” Beau called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, but you also said he went to medical school,” I replied. “More than once.”

“Different lifetimes.” He shrugged because, of course, that was a normal fucking thing. Lane owning a nightclub? That was a fucking thought I never would’ve had. The noise, the lights, the crowd. All of it grated on my nerves. All I could imagine was the killing spree the man would go on in a place like this. Fuck, I wanted to kill someone—make the crowd go away.

Shit. I swallowed back the rise of anger. That thought wasn’t normal even for me.

“You ain’t in the fuckin’ system.” Beau stopped at a door protected by a hand scanner. “Not yet anyway.”

I didn’t want to be in the fucking system but didn’t say that shit outloud. I had a feeling anything I’d say would fall on deaf ears.

A dark hall stretched in front of us when the system approved him. As we walked, we passed a single door with the kind of elaborate security system you’d expect to find in a fucking science fiction movie. I had absolutely no fucking desire to know what was behind that door. Ever.

“Keep walkin’, Killy Boy,” Beau ordered. Despite the nickname, there wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice. I glanced at the door again, not realizing I had faltered in front of it. I shook my head and trailed after him.

Was the hallway neverending?

It sure as fuck felt like it. The darkness pressed uncomfortably against my skin, making air scarce in my lungs. The monster inside me twisted and tested my control as the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. When I flexed my fingers, claws scraped against my palm.

Fuck, I was losing my control.

I focused on my breathing. In and out. Slow and steady. It did little to help. I teetered on the edge of my control as I kept up with him.

The hall ended abruptly, spilling out into a dimly lit room with purple couches centered around a low set table. Lane sat, one leg crossed over the other with his arms stretched across the back of one couch. Seeing him with that dark expression on his face was enough to stop me dead in my tracks.

But the fact that he wasn’t alone was fucking daunting. I recognized Kal standing in the corner, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Mossy green eyes watched me closely—a thing I didn’t fucking want. It made my heart race unsteadily. The man came across as a gentle fucking giant with his long chestnut hair, full beard, flannel shirt, and work boots. But I knew his act. Kal’s specialty was instilling terror. If he was here, I wanted no fucking part of it.

And the others in the room I didn’t recognize, but it wasn’t a long reach to believe the others were the rest of Lane’s team. Which put me in dangerous territory.

I took a brief moment to survey each of them—get some kind of feel for what I’d be dealing with if shit went south.

The only woman in the room was fucking nuts. That much I could tell from the wild look in her gray eyes. The pale blonde in her hair contrasted the head-to-toe black she wore. Despite her lean stature, I had a feeling the woman was a powerhouse. No one sat around carelessly twirling a fucking knife if they weren’t.

The man next to her was a fucking tank with buzzed hair and a deadly blue-eyed stare. Every inch of exposed skin from his neck down was covered in tattoos—everything practically tribal in design. Maybe he was relaxed, maybe he wasn’t. It was hard to tell from how coiled-tight his muscles were.

The last guy in the room lounged like he fucking owned the place. The grin on his face was unnerving. It didn’t reach his stormy eyes. Side-swept dark hair fell into his face, and he didn’t seem to give two fucks about it. The deep opening in his button shirt showed off water-themed tattoos that matched the ones on his arms. Black beaded wraps around his wrist matched the one around his neck.

Yeah. I was fucked. There was no way in hell I was getting out of here in one piece—and that was before Beau and Lane came into play.

“Not going to lie, Lane,” the man with the beads began, “I thought he’d be taller.”

I growled, the sound reverberating off the walls.

“Does his bite match his bark?” the woman asked, arching a delicate brow.

“Quiet,” Lane ordered as her comment warranted a few laughs. The immediate silence he commanded was impressive. “Hello, Killian.”

“Lane.” I nodded slightly. “Want to tell me why you had Beau drag me in here?”

“Oh, we didn’t do this the fun way,” Beau interrupted. “You wanted to do it the easy fuckin’ way.”

“Beau,” Lane warned. “I appreciate you taking time out of your night to come have a chat with me.”

“Not like I had much of a choice,” I said.

“No. You didn’t,” he agreed. “Around the room. Introduce yourselves and where you’re from.”

“Keagan,” the man with the beads smiled once more. I had a strong fucking desire to wipe that grin off his goddamn face. “Before I met Lane, I was Captain of the Dead Tide in sixteen-seventy-four. I was a damn good pirate and a better swordsman.”

Great, a fucking pirate.

“Maia,” the woman said. “Amazonian warrior.”

“Aren’t those mythological creatures?” I replied.

“Aren’t wolf shifters a fictional little thing for teen girls to swoon over and write crappy fanfiction about?” she snarled, her eyes narrowing. Her knife-twirling ceased with the blade tip facing me in a warning that I didn’t miss.

“Point taken,” I muttered. Literally. “Are you old too?”

Okay, I was probably aiming to get my ass kicked but the monster inside me was pissed off. As a result, I was pissed off.

“Child, I’ve watched the world turn in ways you couldn’t begin to fathom,” Maia said. “And for the record, I’m older than Lane. The only reason Im here is because he restored my power. Immortality in your miserable world was always my curse.”

I stared at Lane, and he nodded slightly. Jesus fuck, where the hell did he find people like them?

“My name is Dante,” the man next to Maia told me. “I was a Viking. I was the one they sent in alone to finish things. That’s all you need to know.”

Fucking lovely.

“And you?” I asked, turning to Kal. “What the fuck are you?”

“Just an Irishman out for blood,” he replied quietly with his thick accent. I would’ve bet anything he was recruited during Aodhán’s terror.

“I’m Beau, I’m a cowboy, and I look fuckin’ sexy in my Stetson,” Beau chimed in. While Lane sighed, I shook my head. Somehow, I didn’t expect less of Beau.

“And now you know my team,” Lane said. Before I could say another word, he stood and strode across the room until he was standing in front of me. I tried to take a step back but my feet wouldn’t fucking move.

“Lane,” I growled. Black magic swirled in his eyes as he grabbed the front of my shirt and hauled me closer. Jesus fuck, my body wasn’t mine to do jack shit with. I was stuck as he put a hand on my chest and began chanting something in some fucking language I had no hope of understanding. My compass tattoo blazed, each line glowing red. The pain ran fucking deep.

When I tried to shove him off, Keagan and Beau were there to hold my arms back. The monster inside me rioted as waves of rage rolled through me. I did everything in my fucking power to maintain control, but it was a flimsy effort at best.

“That should do it,” Lane announced. His magic vanished, and he released me. “You know what to do.”

“What to—” A fist to my jaw knocked the words out of my mouth and sent me stumbling.

“First one’s a warm-up,” Keagan told me with a cocky fucking grin. “Now, I’m going to kick your ass.”

I blocked the next blow, but the one after that put me on my ass. I had about two seconds to get back on my feet before a knife sliced across my stomach, cutting my shirt and skin.

“Come on, Killy Boy, I’m rootin’ for you!” Beau called out from somewhere. Who fucking knew? I was fucking focused on the goddamn pirate trying to stab me. Or cut me. Or do something with that fucking knife of his.

This was a fight I would win. I could tell that one. Keagan was fast and fucking deadly. There was no hesitation with every lunge and twist. My only chance of anything was to fucking disarm him.

I was light on my feet as I kept just out of his range. One damn cut was enough. I watched his movements, waiting for my chance to strike. When I could, I grabbed his wrist and gave it a sharp twist to knock the knife from his hand.

It worked… until the fucking man reached into his goddamn tattoo and peeled off another fucking knife.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

“Never seen a magical knife, little wolf?” Keagan asked. He tossed the blade in the air, catching it with ease.

“Lane!” I snarled loudly. I turned fast on my heel to yell at him, but a knee to the stomach knocked the fucking wind out of me. Two fast hits to the face sent me sprawling on the floor.

I gasped for air. Shit, it was like getting hit by a fucking truck.

“You’re taking all the fun,” Maia commented. The toe of her boot touched my chin, and I shoved her away. “Are you giving up already? I expected more from Lane’s latest project. He speaks so highly of you, and I’m so fucking disappointed.”

I pushed off the floor with an exhale. My body fucking trembled—a mixture of rage and worry clashing inside me.

“Is your specialty that you fucking talk?” I said, making Beau laugh behind me. As she lunged forward, I took a swing. I broke my fucking rule. I hit a woman in the fucking face.

And she didn’t even fucking flinch. Me? I probably broke my fucking hand.

“What the fuck are you made of?” I demanded as I shook it out—yeah, that would fucking swell up in no time. “Jesus fucking Christ, it’s like hitting a goddamn wall!”

“Armor.” Her fucking grin was something out of a goddamn horror movie. “My skin is literal armor.”

“Fucking fantastic,” I muttered. I put my hands up, ready to keep going because what the fuck else would I do with a crazy Amazonian trying to kick my ass. “Lane! What the fuck are we doing?”

“Want me to break a few bones?” Dante offered. “Or set him on fire?”

“No fucking fire,” I growled. The sound reverberated off the walls.

“Oh, Killy Boy is angry,” Beau commented. “Sexy.”

“I will fucking kill you, Beau.”

“He’s not angry enough,” Lane said. My gaze flicked in his direction, catching the pensive expression on his face as he watched. “He’s not fighting hard enough.”

“Oh fuck you!” I resisted the urge to flip him off.

“Kal.” He glanced over his shoulder at Kal. With a sigh, Kal pushed away from the wall, his eyes glowing red.

No.

Before I could say a fucking word to protest, utter terror took root in my chest. Panic settled in, squeezing my lungs. My heart thundered against my rib cage while my mind ran rampant with thoughts I couldn’t control.

I was going to fucking die.

There was no way in hell I was getting out of here alive.

Genevieve.

I couldn’t just leave her without a fucking word.

My control snapped. The monster inside me raged to the surface. Claws grew out of my fingernails while fangs rearranged my goddamn mouth. The power coursing through my veins was intoxicating and exhilarating. I roared, baring my fangs at Lane.

The sound was deafening. The very walls around us shook, and the glasses on the table shattered.

“And there he is,” Lane said with an odd level of pride while I seethed, ready to retaliate. “Beau, you know what to do.”

“Let’s have a little fun, Killy boy,” Beau announced. In a movement so fucking fast I could barely follow it, he drew his pistol, pointed it at my head, and fired three quick shots. Nothing fucking happened. Beau’s head cocked to the side. “Huh… fascinatin’.”

And then the fucker leveled his gun on my heart and fired two more times. I stared down at my chest. There wasn’t a fucking hole. No blood. Nothing.

I rounded on Lane with a vicious growl, fucking blinded by the realization of what Lane had done to me. Lane stood his ground, magic flaring as if daring me to attack him. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a stupid fucking idea.

I was a stupid motherfucker but not that stupid.

Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath.

I couldn’t let the monster take over.

Not again.

I wouldn’t.

“You are Killian Byrne.” Genevieve’s voice echoed in my head as I worked to recall how she’d pulled me back from the ledge. “You like apple cider donuts and slow dancing in the kitchen. You have five brothers.”

Declan, Sam, Finn, Lucas, and Nolan. The fucking puppy squad.

“And you were raised by your mom alone. Your favorite holiday is Christmas, but only because you love taking walks to see the lights and going to the holiday market. For our first date, you took me to the holiday market in Copper Spring. You were so nervous that you spilled hot chocolate all over both of us.” Her voice filled every part of me, soothing the uncontrollable thing inside me.

She was the calm in my storm—my anchor.