Weremones (29 page)

“Do any of you guys know Diana’s cell phone number?”

He remembered that someone had mentioned the night she was attacked, her cell phone batteries were dead.

“No. Miz Ridley doesn’t like to carry a cell phone. It usually stays turned off in the car.” Bradley volunteered. “Karen has one, too, for emergencies.”

He gave Adam the number. His brown eyes met Adam’s and held.

“Mack said Miz Ridley was with the killer. Karen’s with her mom. After I dropped her off, she called me and said they were going out to dinner.”

Adam’s brows bunched together.

“You’ve got a phone?”

Bradley shrugged, just the small rise and drop of one shoulder.

“Pay as you go. In case one of the guys or Karen needs me.”

Adam nodded. That fit with Bradley’s protective instincts. He imagined the boy had gotten the phone long before he had arrived on the scene. Once they were through this, he was going to issue each one of them a cell phone.

Adam dialed Karen’s number. After the fifth ring he left a message on her voice mail for her to get back with him ASAP. He left his number in case she didn’t remember it. He dialed Diana’s home number again with little hope she’d answer.

“I don’t suppose you have your brother stashed in a safe place, do you? Studying at the library, maybe?”

He hung up when the answering machine came back on. He’d left enough messages there.

Bradley’s vague uncomfortable mutter of, “I’m sure he’s okay,” snapped Adam’s self control. He grabbed the front of the boy’s shirt and dragged him up, face to face.

“What do you mean
, I’m sure he’s okay?”

Bradley’s eyes flared, angry as he struggled futilely in his alpha’s grip.

“What I said! I don’t
know
where he is. He ran off.”

His voice was hot. Not challenging, but angry, and scared, Adam noted. The fear calmed Adam somewhat, but he still gave the boy a shake for good measure, enough to get the kid’s attention, not a teeth rattling one. He set Bradley down.

“I told you to keep an eye on everyone. I
trusted
you to keep them together.”

“Adam,” Mack interrupted. His voice was calm. Adam could feel the psychic trying to project that calm onto him.

He growled a warning at Mack’s interference. Yeah. He knew he sounded harsh to his own ears. Brandon had fewer survival instincts than the humans and the killer was already out there with the females.

Bradley’s confession came out in a rush.

“Nick and his brothers stopped Brandon and Karen at school today. She and Brandon had an argument right before that. I don’t know what about. She wouldn’t tell me.” He sounded a bit sullen. “Then the coyotes showed up shooting their mouths off. After I ran them off, we told him that he’d be safe.”

Bradley finally took a breath. “He ran anyway.”

“God-
damn
it, Bradley.” Adam pushed the boy away before he hurt someone.

He dragged in a breath. Held it and let it out slowly. Nope, didn’t help. He growled and spoke slowly and succinctly.

“Why did Brandon run off? What was the message you
forgot
to mention to me?”

Bradley swallowed and looked away from Adam’s palpable fury.

“The coyotes wanted to cut the old deal with you. No matter what,” the boy warned. “I won’t let it happen. Sending the message through Brandon was just a way to hurt him more.”

Bradley looked back at Adam and something broke inside the boy. The strong twin’s grief and pain for his brother, a vulnerability Bradley didn’t usually show, touched inside Adam.

The boy was overwhelmed, but determined to carry on.

“What did they want?” Adam prodded.

“They wanted … wanted ….” Bradley flushed red. He looked sick to his stomach.

“Good God. Spit it out. What did they want?” Adam’s impatience spilled over.

He needed to get out of here. Not play catch up.

It was Mark who came to stand beside Bradley. The happy go lucky kid, always on the go in his bright shorts, loud shirt, and surfer haircut laid a hand on his older pack brother’s shoulder, in solidarity and comfort. His innocent face hardened with disgust.

“Sex.”

Mark continued in the adult’s stunned silence. Tank and Chase stared. Adam felt he and Mack were beyond any kind of surprise.

“Benj’s pack has a couple of females coming into season.”

Since none of the adults seemed to be picking up on the revelation, he rolled his eyes, obviously amazed at the collective stupidity on their part.

“
And
they can’t just bite someone and make them a werecoyote.
And
Benj’s pack has been here for a long time.” Mark huffed a sigh. “Damn you people are slow.
And
—”

“They’re inbred.” Rick finished. He took Bradley’s other side. Seth added his support to the group.

Rick’s usual accent faded, sounding closer to the other boys’.

“Benj’s pack don’t breed with nuthin’ that ain’t supernatural. So, he paid Garrick a percentage of his profits for a wolf to … you know, when a female came into heat.”

Rick shrugged. “Didn’t happen that often and none of the old pack wouldn’t do it without Garrick beating the shit out of them first.”

Mark’s fair skin burned under the scrutiny. All of the boys fidgeted.

“Last time Benj called in his marker was two and a half years ago.”

Adam had trouble breathing. He worked his jaw.

“He’s breeding out.”

All eyes turned to Chase. He shot a look at Tank.

“Right?”

Tank nodded, a single dip of his aristocratic chin.

“Yes. That would explain his belief that Adam would grant him challenge rights, or give him wolven rights.”

Everyone’s ears pricked at the dark wolf’s logic.

“When a pack acquires a territory, the first move is to clear out all other potential predators. Especially, other shapeshifters. The werecoyotes may be breeding out for protection.”

“Basically, the old,
you wouldn’t kick out cousin Benj would you?”
Chase clarified. He made a face. “That’s just sick.”

Tank gave another dip of his chin. Acknowledging both Chase’s statements.

Wolven did not cross breed with other animals.

Adam watched the boys. More pieces of the puzzle that was his pack, clicked into place.

Rick, physically the smallest and the youngest of the pack sidled closer to Bradley. Seth closed the distance, putting a hand on the smaller boy.

Adam’s eyes flicked back to Bradley, whose embarrassment stemmed more from the boy’s inability to stop what had happened.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Does it matter?” Mack’s question hung in the air until Adam shook his head.

“No.” Adam took a breath. He found his center and let it out slowly. The flash of his teeth was grim. “What matters is that I’m going to kill the bastard.”

Other things mattered, too. Things he would not voice. That anyone thought him capable of pimping out his kids turned him inside out.

The trust issue was his personal hell. He didn’t claim to understand what these boys had survived, but he was tired of paying for Garrick’s, and now this Benjamin Gates, crimes.

Cheryl, Adam’s mother, had given him a decent semi-normal childhood. After he changed for the first time, she’d come clean about his biological father. Adam still remained in public school at home with the only parents he knew and spent summers with his new wolven family.

With his biological father, Paul, Adam had seen death. He’d handed it out in challenges and territory disputes. He’d had a hunt for Amanda, and killed those who’d killed her. But each atrocity he uncovered of Garrick’s left the taste of rotted meat in his mouth and belly.

His head knew why these kids gave trust so sparingly. But his heart and pride had taken one too many hits today.

Adam turned away to collect his thoughts. He needed to find the females. They weren’t dead, at least Diana wasn’t, not yet. He felt that.

Her weakness pulled at him, verifying that she still lived. He prayed that Karen lived too.

He startled and growled, when the phone in his hand vibrated and trilled a stupid song. He glanced at the ID. The number was unknown.

“Hello.” He answered in a flat tone.

“Adam?”

“Brandon! Where the hell are you? I told you to stay close. There’s a killer out there.”

“Uhhh, not anymore.”

“What do you mean,
not anymore
?”

Adam had died and gone to Hell. Because he was sure in his own personalized version, he was doomed to repeat everything that was said to him while his gut clenched alternately in fear and relief.

He stood stunned as Brandon haltingly told him about Diana and Karen’s abduction and his own part in the killer’s demise.

“We’re on our way to her house now. You’ve got to hurry. I did what I could, but she’s hurt bad.”

“How bad?”

“Knife in the chest. Lot of blood loss.” Brandon paused a moment. His voice was soft. “I gave her some of my blood. She’d bled for a while before I got there. Then before we left I had to clean things up. I couldn’t give her anymore or I’d pass out. I might’ve been too late. I don’t know.”

What little confidence Brandon had in his actions wavered. He hung up abruptly.

“Well?” Mack asked.

As the only human, he was in the dark, both literally and figuratively. All the sensitive wolven ears had picked up the cell phone conversation.

“Let’s go. Someone will explain on the way.”

In the corner of the room, as unobtrusively as possible, Brandon watched the stray named Tank tend to Diana Ridley’s injuries. Adam frequently came and watched.

The alpha insisted that his own blood be used for her healing until Tank decided that too much supernatural blood might do her harm. Then Adam came in to watch and wait.

Brandon might not have been as disturbed at the whole process if everyone wasn’t so
aware
of him. Miz Ridley was the one laid up on the bed with a hole in her chest.

Tank said she’d be all right. Once she finished coughing up the blood in her flooded lung, she’d stop scaring them with those horrible fits.

Adam drifted into the room, again, and watched the bed. Like he had other times, the alpha wandered over to where Brandon sat, back to the corner, with his knees drawn up to his chest.

Adam set his hand on Brandon’s head. He felt the alpha finger the strands of his hair before patting his head a couple of times. Then he finally drifted away.

Mack came in a couple of times and stood beside him. The human didn’t say anything. He stood there, waiting, watching Miz Ridley’s pale form under her pretty blue flowered blanket. Mack left after he began to fidget.

Chase walked in and crouched in front of Brandon. Past experience made him wary. He was beginning to wonder what the older males were up to.

“Hey, kid. Hungry?”

Brandon shook his head no and the stray left. He came back with a Dagwood sandwich, a bag of chips, and a liter soda. The guy didn’t go away until Brandon ate the sandwich, the chips, and drank at least half the soda.

The blond man stood, gave him another pat on the head and left with the dishes.

It was freaky. Freaky bothered him enough that he didn’t worry as much about the monster being let out of its cage. Freaky alpha type adults made him consider his options.

He knew he had enough supplies stashed for when he made a break for it. Only this time, he wouldn’t stick around.

Adam was adding the strays to the pack tonight. Brandon had heard Tank and Chase arguing about that. Chase didn’t want to be bound to a pack.

Tank had all kinds of logical reasons why the two strays should stay. Brandon didn’t trust the strays and he was just beginning to get used to Adam. Now Adam was making changes, adding others to the pack.

The huge dark skinned man nodded, silently acknowledging the boy’s interest in the patient. He moved slowly and deliberately, allowing Brandon see what was done each time he checked the chest wound, or looked into Miz Ridley’s eyes with that pencil sized flashlight. Freaky.

The guys were avoiding him. Seth glanced in the room for the third time, obviously intrigued with the wolven doctor. He glanced at Brandon and ducked back out fast. The others had pretty much done the same. Bradley avoided him completely.

It occurred to Brandon that maybe they knew what was up and decided to make a clean break. Besides, what was the loss of the omega wolf anyway?

Brandon got up and eased out of the room, head down in case he ran into someone in the overcrowded house. In his mind he mapped the course and calculated the odds of his escape.

Adam was going insane.

He paced the house and made another check on Diana and Brandon. The kid looked okay on the outside. But Brandon had made his first real kill without any guidance. Not an animal, a live sentient creature. A human.

The boy needed to go out for a run. A good long run and hunt for rabbit or some other small game, something right and natural. Killing humans, any two-footed creature, could leave a foul taste on your conscience, a dark smear on your soul. That too was the proper order of things, otherwise everyone, humans and supernaturals alike, would become unremorseful monsters like the one Brandon had killed.

There were a lot of other more pressing needs than a hunt. Unfortunately, Brandon would have to deal with that particular horror a little while longer.

Diana’s injury and the safety of the pack came first. For that he left Brandon to his beside vigil, the place Adam would rather stay if his responsibilities had allowed. He finally had everyone under one roof. He wanted to keep them there until he’d bound Tank and Chase to the pack.

His instincts told him to go after the coyotes before they had time to regroup.

He was loosing his edge. Here he was pacing the house like some lovesick sad sack and new father, worrying over a new pup. He should be out,
doing something
to secure his territory.

Adam stopped beating himself up to watch Brandon slink down the stairs. He followed the boy into the kitchen. Mark and Rick mumbled in the teenager’s general direction and scatted without making eye contact.