New Regime (8 page)

“I’ll be back to eat,” she told Ellie, and snatched the
coffee he held out for her as she sailed by him on her way to see Elizabeth.
“Thanks, baby.”

Elizabeth was waiting for her, pacing the floor. “Good, you’re
here. He won’t talk to anyone else.”

She strode down the hall, her heels clacking with a nervous
speed that made Rune frown. Elizabeth was not often agitated—and even when she
was, she hid it well.

“Strad said the shifter is dying,” she said.

“I believe he is,” Elizabeth offered, not slowing her brisk
pace. “The other shifters are unchanged. They haven’t remembered anything,
though.”

“How could the act of remembering kill him?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know. Here we are. Let’s
see what we can get out of him before he is unable to speak.”

Rune touched her arm before she went into the room. “Do you
have any news about Fie?”

But Elizabeth wasn’t ready to talk about the child. “No.”
She put her hand to the pad on the wall and the door slid open noiselessly.

“And Owen?”

Elizabeth’s smile was slight and tired. “Owen will be fine.”

The shifter was alone in the room—a large room that had been
set up to resemble a studio apartment, complete with a kitchenette and a
bathroom.

He sat on the sofa, staring at a mural of a forest that took
up one entire wall. It was very well done. She could almost believe the picture
was a beautiful view outside a window. Almost.

“Do you know his name?” she asked Elizabeth.

“Edward,” he said, causing both Rune and Elizabeth to jump
in surprise. “My name is Edward. Edward…” He frowned, then turned to face them.
“Edward…” He stood and put his fingers to his temples. “Edward…”

“Shhh,” Elizabeth said. “It isn’t important, Edward.”

But Rune knew it was very important. Important to the
shifter. He needed to know his last name. “Hi, Edward. Do you remember me?”

“Of course,” he said. He’d lost weight. His face was hollow
and sharp, his eyes too large. His jumpsuit was clean, but hung on his skeletal
frame. “I have to talk to you.”

She nodded. “I’m listening.”

“They want the girl.”

“You told me that when I brought you here.”

He frowned. “I did? Yes. Yes, I remember. I did.” He swiped
at his nose, which had begun to bleed.

Rune shot a look at Elizabeth.

“Are you okay to talk, Edward?” Elizabeth asked him.

He walked to Rune and stood too close to her, his stare
intent. “You’re her,” he said.

“I’m the girl they want?”

His smile was a little sad. “No. We hid the girl they want.
You have to help her.”

“I will, but I have to know where she is.”

“Can you tell us that, Edward?” Elizabeth kept her voice
gentle, but impatience sparked in her eyes.

“Don’t speak to me like I’m an imbecile,” he snapped, his
sudden anger disorienting. “They took my memory, not my…my…”

Rune touched his cheek, turning his face toward her. “Tell
me where the girl is.”

“I had to tell you something. Where did it go?”

“Concentrate, Edward. Picture her face.”

“She’s a little girl,” he said. “She’s nice. She’s scared.
Her eyes are closed. No. Not closed. Blindfolded.” He smiled at Rune, then
licked absently at the blood that had leaked from nose and gathered in a line
between his lips.

“That’s good,” she said, watching the blood as it slid from
the corners of his mouth. “That’s great. What’s her name?”

“Megan,” he said instantly, then gaped in surprise. “I
didn’t realize I knew that.”

Rune looked at Elizabeth. “Megan is the missing werefox.”

“God,” the shifter screamed, and pressed the heels of his
hands so violently into his eyes Rune was afraid he’d blind himself.

She grabbed his wrists and forced his hands down. “Edward?”

“It hurts,” he whispered. “So bad. So bad.” He leaned
forward and threw up.

She didn’t move, just let him vomit his pain onto her shoes.
She was weary of others’ pain, sick of being helpless in the face of it.

She stared over his head at the mural, the stupid fucking
mural, trying to tramp down the rage that arose inside her like the stench from
the shifter’s bloody, gushing vomit.

At last, he stopped and straightened, wiping his mouth with
the back of his hand.

She steadied him as he listed to the side. “Get him some
water, Elizabeth.”

“I’m a dead man,” he said. “I have to remember. There’s
something I have to tell you.”

“You need to tell me where Megan is, Edward.”

“We hid her from the pikes. But they’ll find her.” Again,
his eyes widened.

He covered his mouth and stumbled back, groaning in agony,
his gaze turned inward as he glimpsed a horror only he could see. “Jars!” he
screamed. “Jars and jars and jars…”

She grabbed his shoulders, halting his lurching body, and
shook him hard. His head flopped on his neck. “Where, Edward? Where the fuck
are they?”

His eyes filled with blood. “In the lab,” he whispered, and
then he fell to the floor and died.

“What we know,” Elizabeth said, sitting with Rune and Bill
Rice at a conference room table, “is that the pike alpha is somehow involved.
There’s a lab. And Megan Smith is being held there. I’ve already got people on
it.”

“I have to find the pikes. And I need to talk to Megan’s
mother again,” Rune said. “She might know more than she’s even aware of.”

Bill and Elizabeth exchanged a quick look.

“What?” Rune leaned forward and watched them, her eyes
narrow. “What is it?”

Bill cleared his throat. “Rune, Eugene handed the foxes over
to human law enforcement.”

She knotted her fists. “No.”

“He did, and there’s nothing you can do about it now.”
Elizabeth took a sip of her tea, then put her cup down with exaggerated care.
“It was for the best.”

“For the best? Letting the humans execute Louisa Smith and
the foxes is for the best? Tell me, Elizabeth, why you believe that.”

“The Annex is making strides. We have to think of the
greater good, Rune. In the end, the sacrifices we make today will gain us Other
equality in the future.”

Rune shook her head at Elizabeth’s acceptance. “Eugene has
killed the foxes to appease the humans. You’re fucking telling me you think
he’s right?”

Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Rune looked at Rice. “You, too?”

“The foxes did abduct and torture humans. The humans died.
We can’t allow them to walk away. You know better than that, Rune.”

She shoved her chair back and stood. “You’re not saving
Others. You’re killing them.” At the door, she turned back. “We were in the
middle of a case and they were witnesses. At the very fucking least, you could
have waited until we found Megan.” And even if they did find her, she’d have to
be told her family was dead.

“Go get some sleep,” Rice told her. “You’re not thinking
straight.”

“Today was difficult for her,” Elizabeth murmured.

“Yes,” Bill agreed, “but that doesn’t—”

“Mom. Dad,” Rune interrupted. “Call me with updates.” Then
she strode away, leaving them to their discussion.

She stuck her head in Ellie’s office, but the lights were
off. He’d already gone home. She couldn’t wait to get to her own house. There
were a million things to do and think about and worry over, but she had to let
them go for a while.

She punched in Strad’s number on her way to her car. “I’m
heading home,” she said, when he answered.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

She’d showered and grabbed a change of clothes from her
locker after the shifter had covered her with sick, and she was ready for some
more coffee, a soft bed, and the berserker’s blood.

Her mind was tired and her heart was heavy. If she didn’t
let the bad stuff go for a few hours, she’d crumble under the weight of it.

Rune began to relax as soon as she walked through the door.

Lex sat at the kitchen table with Levi, who was nursing a
bottle of beer. Denim stood at the sink, wearing a frilly apron, washing a
plate. The house smelled of vanilla and coffee.

Rune smiled. “Are there cookies?”

Denim winked and pointed his chin at the oven. “Freshly
baked. And the coffee’s hot. Unless you want milk?”

Rune lifted an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “You drink too much coffee.”

Lex laughed. “You face monsters every day and he’s worried
about your caffeine intake.”

Rune poured herself a cup of coffee, piled half a dozen warm
cookies on a napkin, and went to sit at the table with Lex and Levi.

“Everybody good?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Levi answered. He didn’t look at her. “You doing
okay?”

“I am. Levi…” But she didn’t know what to say.

“We heard about Gunnar,” he said, when she gazed at her
cookies, unable to find her words.

“He’ll be okay, I guess. He’s talking about moving away,
though.”

“What?” Lex folded her arms. “No way. We’re not letting that
skinny freak go anywhere.”

“I’ll take him a case of Baby Ruth candy bars tomorrow. If
he can’t take them with him, that’ll make him stay for a while longer.” She
wasn’t entirely joking.

“What made you put Owen in the hospital?” Levi asked, the
question so abrupt and unexpected she could only stare at him.

Finally, she put her cookie down. “Because he surprised me.
Because I’m not over COS yet. I still see them when I close my eyes. And
sometimes…”

“You have flashbacks,” he whispered.

“Yeah. I guess.”

No one said anything for a moment. Denim joined them at the
table, coffee in hand. She heard the front door open, and knew Strad had
arrived.

“Just don’t sneak up on me,” she told them. When she looked
up, the berserker was standing the kitchen doorway, and Owen was at his side.

She stood. “Owen.”

He gave her wink. “You didn’t hurt me that badly.” But he
moved gingerly when he walked to the table and pulled out a chair. “And I’m
full of painkillers.”

“Where are Raze and Jack?” she asked. “Anyone heard from
them?”

“Raze said he had something to do,” Lex said, her eyes
jerking. “He didn’t say what, and I didn’t ask him.”

Rune lifted at eyebrow at Lex’s defensive tone.

“Jack dropped me off here when I broke out of the Annex
hospital,” Owen said. “He was heading home.” His expression was clear and
innocent. Too innocent, maybe. “You got room here for me for a couple days,
until I get back to normal?”

She couldn’t say no—she’d been the one to wound him. And he
knew that. She looked at Strad, who was staring at Owen with narrowed eyes and
a displeased frown.

“Yeah,” she said. “Get one of these guys to show you to a
room.” She walked to Strad. “Let’s go to bed.”

He grinned.

She walked ahead of him to her bedroom, feeling his heat at
her back, his big body almost touching hers.

When they reached her bedroom he surprised her by pushing
her gently aside and going in first. He flipped on the light, his sharp gaze
picking apart the shadows, his fingers touching the hilts of his blades.

She stepped inside, slammed the door shut, and turned to him
with her mouth open and a stern lecture ready—but he was waiting for her.

He pulled her against his chest and kissed her, hard. She
was too short, or he was too tall, so he gathered her into his arms and lifted
her from the floor.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, thoughts of rebuking
him for trying to protect her disappearing. There’d be time enough for that
later.

Right then there was just the berserker, and his fierceness,
and his mouth.

She pulled her lips from his, moaning when he nipped the
side of her neck, his tongue quickly easing the sting.

“You make me forget everything that’s wrong with me.” She
needed to tell him. He’d know what she couldn’t yet say.

He drew back and met her gaze, his own soft, but hot. So
hot. One corner of his mouth lifted in a quick smile. “You’re trying to forget
something that shouldn’t be there in the first place. There’s no one more
perfect than you.”

She wanted to say something silly, wanted to call him crazy,
but the look in his eyes was too delicate. Too sincere.

“God,” she whispered, and pressed her lips to his.

He walked to the bed and put her down, then sat beside her to
take off his boots.

She lay back and threw her forearm over her eyes, not daring
to watch as he stood and began undressing. She lay still in her darkness,
unsure.

She didn’t move when the bed dipped. Strad began pulling her
weapons from their sheaths and holsters, then unlaced her boots.

He didn’t hesitate when he’d taken care of her boots and
belts. He reached for the waistband of her pants and pulled them over her hips.

She couldn’t breathe. Her heart beat fast and hard, and she
ignored the beginnings of rage stirring inside her.

Shhh,
she told her monster.
Shhh.

He didn’t make her lift her head or take her arm from her face
so that he could remove her shirt—he ripped it open and left the ragged edges
lying against her ribs.

Her fangs dropped.

“I’m going to get you through this, sweetheart,” Strad said.
His hands were gentle, slow, and sure. “Trust me.”

Trust me.

Her body shook with the effort it took her not to move, not
to resist, not to fight him. He was not a slayer.

He was not the church.

He was the berserker.

Her
berserker.

And as she lay there unmoving, he slid his fingers softly
but firmly over her skin, and he continued to talk. At times she could hear the
passion and the pain and part of her wanted, still, to fight.

Part of her wanted to run.

But she let him ease her through her terror, through her
rage, slowly relaxing as she concentrated on his words.

“I needed to deny my growing feelings for you, too, at
first,” he said. “I needed to hide. You can be hard on a man.”

Maybe he smiled then, but she didn’t look.

She listened.

“Some part of me was hiding, running, when I took Tina into
my bed.”

She stiffened, but he tightened his grip on her leg, just enough
to make her feel something other than the immediate memory of that particular
betrayal. The one they’d never really talked about.

“Part of me,” he continued, his voice low, “wanted to forget
that my son was missing. And part of me was an asshole.

“But it didn’t relieve me of my need for you. Of my desire
for you. My…craving for you. That didn’t stop. That has only gotten stronger.
And not because of your bite.”

His lips were soft against her bare belly. He lifted his
face but she could still feel the heat of his breath on her skin with his next
words.

His terrible, beautiful words.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I love you so goddamn fucking
much.”

“God,” she groaned. “No—”

But he put his fingers over her lips. “Hush, sweetheart. You
needed to know. You don’t need to do anything else but lie there and let me
love you. Let me show you. Let me show you for the rest of my life.”

She could fight it all she wanted, but she couldn’t force
Strad Matheson not to feel anything. She couldn’t make him take back his words.

And honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Slowly, she took her arm from her eyes and looked at him.

She said nothing, not aloud.

But deep inside she heard her monster’s laughter, slightly
mocking but more despairing.

God help me.