Raven (Kindred #1) (37 page)

Brodie wasn’t even sweating. She was amazed by how together he was. “We’ll do an occlusive and—“

“My lungs are shot,” Art said and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “There’s nothing you can do, kid. This is my one day.”

Opening her mouth, she felt the icicles curling around her hands and shoulders. Brodie wasn’t worried, but Art, their mentor, he said… his one day. Zara knew what that meant. Brodie had told her that everyone was heading for their one day. Coming to such a conclusion might terrify most people, but Art didn’t look scared. His focus stuck to Brodie’s and the pure pride glowing from his expression made Zara’s already sensitive sinus burn until the spheres of tears rolled over her lower lashes.

Patting their joined hands on his chest once, he lifted his other weak arm up to clasp Brodie’s face. “You’re my greatest achievement, kid,” Art said. “Raising you means I leave this world a better place.”

“Shut up, old man. You’re not gonna die,” Brodie said, batting his uncle’s hand down from his face. He tried to turn away from the wound, but Art caught him and forced his hand to stay on hers on his chest.

“You’ve found your normal, kid. You’ve got a woman to love, who loves you back, don’t be like me,” Art said and when he coughed, blood erupted from his mouth.

Tuck appeared from somewhere and dropped down beside Brodie. Zara hadn’t seen him arrive. Grief had thawed the ice consuming her and sent it streaming down her face from her eyes, blurring all of her senses.

Art was slipping away, his eyelids were drooping, and the color was leaving his cooling skin. She wanted to do something. Wanted to make this better. Wanted someone to make Art better. “Brodie,” she whimpered. “Fix this… can you fix this? Please, baby, just…” her sobbing inhale preceded her sucking her lips in around her teeth to silence her wailing.

Brodie wasn’t working. Tuck slid the kit from his arm, but took nothing from it. Art reached for Tuck’s hand and he brought it onto hers and Brodie’s over his wound. Blood seeped between all of their fingers, dying them and bonding them in this tragic moment that left them all helpless.

Losing Art would devastate the troupe, but it was Art’s insistence of pulling them all together that made her even more desperate to hold on to him. Her tears dripped from her chin onto their blood soaked skin. He was the glue that made the Kindred. In such a short time, he had such a profound impact on her. He’d looked after her, tutored her, protected her, and all the while kept the best interest of them all close to his heart.

“Look after each other, you three,” Art said, his eyes drifting shut and his words slurring. “You’re the Kindred, my legacy… watch… your… back.” Each whispered word came slower until with a tiny last breath, his whole body went limp.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Her crying continued in silence, her tears diluted the blood marring their clasping hands. Paused with their digits twined on the chest of the man who had brought them together. She wanted to call out, to wail, and beg him to come back, but this wasn’t her grief. It was Brodie’s. Uncertain as to how she should console him, she lifted her attention to his blank expression fixated on the lifeless body between them.

He just stared down at the prone man, like if he looked hard enough, somehow the truth would change. Gradually his brows became tense, they lowered, and the consuming darkness compressed around them all. Tuck was wearing the same concern that she felt, but he didn’t venture forth.

Brodie broke the standstill. Removing his hand from Art’s chest forced her and Tuck’s release as well. Art’s hand dropped to the concrete and she felt the need to pick it up again. Brodie swept aside his jacket, straightened out his uncle’s form, and shifted onto his knees to begin chest compressions.

“It’s no use,” Tuck said, trying to pull Brodie’s arm, but he carried on working.

“Breathe for him,” Brodie said, bringing his eyes up to hers for only a second.

Torn between the inevitable end and Brodie’s hope, she trembled for a moment. But she wasn’t ready to let go yet, so tipping Art’s head back, she held his nose and bowed to breathe for him. Tasting his blood made her chin quiver, but Brodie kept working, so she kept breathing.

After another two breaths, someone came in beside her and grabbed her shoulder to pull her back. Twisting to look up at her attacker, she saw it was Grant and he wasn’t acting in malice. There were real tears in his eyes.

“He’s gone,” Grant whispered to her and she glanced down to see no sign of life on Art’s loose face. Brodie kept pumping his chest, but she leaned over and cupped her hand around his cheek.

“Beau, release,” she murmured. Brodie stopped moving, but his hands stayed tense on Art’s chest. After another second, his eyes came up to hers, and she shook her head, freeing more tears from her saturated eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Swiping her hand away from his face when she tried to reach out. Brodie surged to his feet and his hand moved to the back of his head. “Rave, we—“

Tuck was cut off by Brodie striding over Art to grab hold of Grant. “You goddamn, motherfucking…” Grabbing the back of his older brother’s head, Brodie snatched Grant’s throat with his other hand and began to squeeze.

“God, Rave, come on, man!” Tuck said, rushing over to try to break them apart. Grant choked and tried to hit out at Brodie, but his blows had no effect.

“Brodie,” she called out, and hurried to his side. Tuck was trying brute force and it wasn’t working. “Stop it!” Covering her hand with his, she dug her nails in deep and scratched the back of his hand.

He hissed and whipped around, looming over her with the rage he’d tried to vent on Grant. Unafraid, she finally got her hands to his cheeks to caress and soothe them. “I love you, beau,” she whispered. “It’s going to be ok. We’ll figure it out… What would the chief tell you to do? Huh?”

Some of his anger ebbed, but his focus snapped downward to Art’s stained corpse. Crossing to it with his hand in hers, he bent to retrieve the van key from the floor and pressed it into her palm before letting her go. Crouching again, he scooped his arms under Art and lifted his body from the floor. Without explanation, Brodie turned and carried him out of the warehouse.

Tuck grabbed her to pull her around to face him. “I gotta go with him,” Tuck said, giving her a shake. “Tidy up here then return to base. Do you understand?”

Nodding, she struggled to regain her senses and glanced back to see that Grant was still here, coughing and clutching his throat. Tuck kissed her cheek then ran out of the warehouse in Brodie’s wake.

She took a deep breath and ducked to pick up Brodie’s leather jacket. She’d told her love to stay together, so she couldn’t fall apart now. “I have to go,” she murmured. Sapped and dazed, she attempted to pass Grant, but he snagged her arm.

He appeared vacant and his words were sluggish and wheezy, but she couldn’t blame him for being numb. “You know him… you knew Brodie… for how long?” Grant asked.

They’d just watched a man die and witnessed what could only be the start of Brodie’s unraveling. She didn’t care about assuaging anyone’s ego. “I don’t have time to answer your questions,” she said and tore her arm out of his hold.

He got into her path when she tried to pass him again. “We have to go after Sutcliffe,” he said, spurred into desperation. “We have to give him the device. He’ll kill us if—“

“Maybe you should’ve thought about his capabilities before getting into bed with him,” she snapped and gave him a shove to move him aside. 

Zara got two paces toward the van before Grant spoke again. “Did you take those considerations before getting into bed with my brother?”

His hoarse disapproval made her squirm. She stopped moving because beyond his anger, she deciphered hurt in his voice and Art would tell her to address, not ignore, the issue at hand. She couldn’t deny her betrayal, not with everything that had just happened. “No,” she confessed. “I didn’t know much about him at all before I got into bed with him. I didn’t know he was your brother then.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“To me sleeping with him? Maybe at first,” she said, turning a gradual inch at a time until she faced her boss. “I don’t think it would’ve prevented me from falling in love with him though.”

In his own exhale of disbelief, he shook his head and glowered at her. “You’re in love with him? He’s a… he’s a monster.”

Her anger made her frown and forget any thought of sparing Grant’s feelings because she was overwhelmed by offense at his suggestion. “No, he’s not. He takes on the responsibilities that men like you won’t. He’s been ruthless and at times harsh. But he sold his soul so that we could live and be safe… Don’t ever forget that.” There was no time to deconstruct her relationship with either of the McCormack men. “You can deal with the bodies of Sutcliffe’s men, or you can call the cops and explain to them what you’re doing here. You wanted to live the adventure and get your hands dirty. Now’s your chance.”

Brodie was in pain and Tuck had given her a task. Leaving Grant here would buy her some time. So jumping into the van, she drove away from the scene and headed for CI because before she took care of these devices, she had to make sure that no one could recreate the terror nearly sold on this day, the terror that had cost a much-loved man his life.

Working as fast as she could, Zara felt the flames of urgency licking at her heels when she finally got back to McCormack Manor. Her fingerprint worked on the concealed security entrance revealing that she hadn’t been as ousted as she thought.

Art’s jeep was there with the keys in it, so she climbed in and started toward the house. Another vehicle on the edge of a clearing made her stop the jeep to get out and investigate. Through foliage and rocks, she came to a large open space with a sea view, which was protected on most sides by trees. She heard the sound of a shovel in dirt before she saw anything. The noise drew her attention right and there was Brodie, forty feet away shoveling dirt into a rectangular hole.

Tuck came out of the trees to her left and strode over to join her. “You came,” he said. “You take care of everything?”

Concern for Brodie was her priority, but in a distant tone, she answered Tuck’s question because the job was still important. Art didn’t die for nothing and they had to make it their mission to ensure that.

“I removed the van from the scene and picked up all the plans and paperwork from CI before Grant could get back,” she said. “One advantage of his fear of digital exposure is that we can be sure we have everything.”

Tuck put a hand on her shoulder. “Sutcliffe won’t go quietly. He’s going to be a problem down the road.”

In awe that Tuck was forward planning while Brodie was still doing manual labor, these men were still in combat mode. But she just wanted to get through this night before thinking about tomorrow. “We’ll deal with it when it’s more imminent,” she sighed. “For now, there’s nothing to sell and Grant has no schematics to commission any reproduction. We’ve bought ourselves some time at least.”

“Good. Where is the device?”

She was still fixated on Brodie’s shirtless form glistening in the low dusk sun as he worked to fill the hole. He stepped back to wipe a hand over his mouth and Zara noticed the side view of two headstones beyond Brodie’s position.

“It’s safe.” Transfixed by the beauty and the sadness of the sight, her heart swelled for her love’s toil. “How is he?” she asked, watching Brodie return to his shoveling.

Tuck exhaled and his arm sagged, causing his palm to skim down her back. “We all discussed our final arrangements, but you never think you’ll need them, you know? Brodie’s parents are buried there and Art wanted to be at his sister’s side.”

“Should we help?” Zara asked. The sight of the sole man sweating for his mentor, his father figure, his family, made her inflamed heart shatter as the tears welled in her eyes again.

“He wants to do it,” Tuck said. “He told me to leave him… and he’s almost done.”

“How will we get through this?” she murmured, the weight of anguish dropped through her gut and she almost screamed for the torture Brodie was enduring.

When Tuck’s fingers slipped in between hers, she forced herself to look away from Brodie. “Art told us to stick together,” Tuck said. “We do that and we’ll be fine… But Brodie… he’s gonna need you and it might get rough.”

Encouraged by Tuck’s confidence, feigned as it may be, she fortified herself. “Rough I can handle,” she said. “He’s tried so hard to push me away.”

“Falling for you freaked him out,” Tuck said. “Art and I talked about it. Rave’s been like a bear with a sore head since you found out about Quebec. Art says he kept it secret because he knew he’d want to scare you away.”

Brodie was a loner and love probably wasn’t on his agenda. It hadn’t been on hers, neither was a man as intense as Brodie. He was flawed, far more damaged than most other men were. But his demons didn’t scare her. She would have to get used to him pushing her. In time, he would learn that he wasn’t going to get rid of her, no matter how hard he tried to provoke her into leaving him.

“He failed,” she murmured and noted how tired Tuck looked. This day had taken energy from him too. Art had been a rock. Without him, the Kindred would probably flounder for a while, but she was determined not to let it die. “Come here.”

Stepping into him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt him slump as he exhaled into their hug. They would have to get used to leaning on each other now that they didn’t have Art’s guiding hand.

She and Tuck held onto each other for a while. When he drew back, he was looking in the direction of Art’s grave. Zara turned and noticed Brodie was coming toward them. A few feet away, he brought the spade up and drove it down into the dirt. Crossing the final distance, he snatched the back of her neck with his dirty hand.

Dried blood and dirt covered his hands and arms, but she wasn’t deterred. Zara edged nearer and rested her fingertips on the ridges of his abs. “Swift’s gonna take you to your apartment,” he said. “Pack your shit and bring it here. You’re not to leave this house. You understand me?”

“I understand,” she said and let him pull her head back so far she lost her balance. He caught her weight with his hand on her neck and his forearm on her spine. With an open mouth, he tasted her tongue then separated their kiss.

“You’re Kindred now,” Brodie said and curled his fingers around her wrist. Examining her hand, he had to see that Art’s blood was still crusted under her fingernails. But, he brought her hand up and kissed her fingertips before transferring his focus onto Tuck. “You watch her and bring her back to me.”

“You got it, Chief,” Tuck said and after a brief silent exchange, Brodie passed him and marched through the trees toward the house.

“Chief,” she murmured, recognizing Art’s moniker. With him gone, Brodie would have to step up and take over the head role in the Kindred. He was Art’s heir and rightful successor.

Tuck sighed. “Now he has to go inside and tell Bess and the others. He’s gonna need time to get through this. You’ll have to wait for answers about your relationship. I don’t think he’s capable of being rational or reasonable now,” Tuck said. For now, she had all the answers she needed. Brodie needed her and her place was at his side. “I’ll go and get my bike. We’ll bring your essentials and get the rest when we can take a car out later.”

Tuck walked away through the trees on the route Brodie had just used. When she was alone, she turned toward the graves. Zara walked over and read Brodie’s parents headstones beside the fresh dirt.

Lowering to her knees, she exhaled. Opening her hands on the soil beneath her, she opened herself to what her future would be.

“I hear you,” she whispered. “You didn’t need to leave him to make your point. I do love him and I know he plays games to test me. And I promise… I’ll stay by his side and get him through this. I won’t let him sabotage us. I’ll abide by priority one because you were right. I’m Kindred now.”