To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1 (21 page)

“No,” she said quietly, removing herself from Rhiannon and helping the woman up. She didn’t have any fight left in her.

“So Aaron’s right about you? Kerrick just had the shit luck to get saddled with an emotionless robot?” Rhiannon asked incredulously. Her arms flailing out to the side, her face flushed with anger.

Cimby didn’t respond to the taunt. She just stared, letting Rhiannon make her own assumptions.

“He deserves better than you.” With that statement Rhiannon called for Aaron to follow her and walked out of the bar. Cimby sat back on her stool, listening as their SUV started and rolled onto the main street that would return them to the highway.

“Mated to the Alphar, huh?” Uma said, sliding the full bottle of whiskey Cimby’s way. Cimby remained silent again, not in the mood for conversation or for being social. She raised the bottle with a nod to the woman in thanks, and began to chug. “Why won’t you be with him? He’s pretty good lookin’.”

“Aren’t you a lesbian?” Cimby asked on a deep inhalation as her throat burned from the half bottle of alcohol she just chugged.

“Nah, she just likes to bust Aaron’s balls,” the man from the end of the bar said as he came to sit next to Cimby. He wore a red flannel shirt and jeans, and though his skin was aged with old scars and beginning to wrinkle, she could easily see the sparkle of youth in his eyes. He must have been quite the hellion in his day. But beyond the pleasant smile, through the scars littering his worn face, Cimby could tell this man had seen years of battles. And still, something tugged at her senses about the man, something familiar.

“As her mate, I can personally attest to her not being a lesbian.”

“Well, there was that one time in college,” Uma muttered with a wink at her mate as she passed through a door leading to the back of the bar.

He watched her walk off with a smile before offering Cimby his hand. “Name’s Reggie.”

“You’re a Fox,” she said, shaking his hand briefly.

“That I am, Wolf. I’d appreciate if you didn’t eat me.”

“I will not make any promises.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you got going on in your life makin’ you think you can’t mate with the Alphar,” Reggie began. “But let me tell you this. All those faults you think you have, all the dangers you might think come with mating, with permanently connecting your life to another person, once you’re his and he’s yours, none of it matters anymore.”

“Why? Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because you’re not alone anymore, darlin’.” The man poured her a shot from the whiskey bottle and saluted before taking a swig. “It’s all worth the crap you go through at the initial mating.”

“Thanks but there are extenuating circumstances. It’s not as easy as it seems.” Cimby stood from the stool, thinking a drive around the mountains and a quick run might benefit her state of mind.

“It never is when an Incendiary falls in love.”

She paused, her heart pounding in her ears and her senses on high alert, as if the world had slowed down and there was only this man in her sights. He just sat there with a knowing look, running his finger along the edge of the whiskey glass.

“Who are you?” she asked, sitting back down and giving the man her full attention.

“I was like you once, not too long ago.”

“That’s impossible.”

“How is it impossible? What do you think happens to Incendiaries when they retire?”

“Retiring means death.”

“Maybe under Riddan’s rule it did.” Reggie poured them both another drink, his eyes seeing something far away as he took a sip. “In other territories Incendiaries are honored, given luxury and great respect when they’re not huntin’.” He turned back to her. “Here they’re diminished to scary bedtime stories. It’s embarrasin’.”

“Were you the one before me?”

“Nah, that was some other hotshot. He couldn’t control himself too well, but he loved workin’ for Riddan. They were best buds, torturing and killin across the country, probably where the evil bedtime stories came from.”

“What happened to him?” Cimby was intrigued to learn about the Incendiary before her.

“Riddan had to kill him. He was startin’ to go off and find his own missions. He let the berserker take over too much and it consumed him.” Reggie clapped Cimby on her shoulder as he stood. She was stunned to meet another Incendiary, and a former Incendiary at that. A mated man who seemed to be in complete control of himself and most importantly, he seemed happy. Content with his life.

“How did you get here?” she asked, gesturing around the bar.

“I met Uma and everything changed. I was like you, keepin’ to my training and bottling it all up, but she wouldn’t let me keep it in, neither would my animal as it recognized its mate. Don’t throw the Alphar away, girl. You’re young. You haven’t been Incendiary long and you need to keep doin’ it. But you also need to have a mate or else you’ll lose yourself like the one before you did.”

“I’m more careful about letting the berserker out.”

“It’s not about being careful, Incendiary. It’s about having someone to balance you, just as the Alphar needs someone to balance him.”

“But I can’t—”

“Cymbeline!” Aaron called, bursting through the bar doors as he rushed back into the bar, his phone clutched in his hand. “Iri’s collapsed.”

Chapter Fifteen

Kerrick followed Irisi out of Aaron’s rooms and rounded the corner, nudging her fluffy side to make the right that would lead back to the front lawn. Spending the past couple hours with her had been enjoyable. The girl was intrinsically Raccoon, on every level. She thrived on mischief and Kerrick couldn’t help but get lost in the silly pranks he helped her play on the people in The Mansion. She’d been nervous around him at first, but after that first hour she’d loosened up and begun to lead the pranking mission herself.

He took her back outside and found the pile of clothes she’d left on the lawn folded neatly on a chair near a secluded side patio. Kerrick shifted back from the Raccoon form he’d chosen and waved at Zach in thanks for moving her clothes. He could smell the young techie on them. Zach waved back with a salute, still tinkering away at the gate. Kerrick waited for her to dress before speaking again.

“You’re a little too good at that stuff, you know,” he said with a wink. “Should I be nervous?”

Her hand moved toward her head then jerked down again, as if she’d forgotten she could no longer run her fingers through long tresses. “It’s fun,” was all she said, looking over at Zach. He caught her watching and waved with a smile. She looked away quickly, a sweet blush staining her cheeks.

“How old are you, Irisi?” Kerrick asked, gesturing toward a couple wicker chairs for them to sit in.

“Ten,” she said, sitting with her legs folded on the chair.

He nodded at her answer, watching her stare out over the lawn at Zach. “I want you to be able to trust me, Irisi.”

“If Cimby trusts you, then I can trust you,” she said with a frown, turning haunted eyes to him.

He grinned and said, “That’s a loaded statement, and you know it.” Cimby was a tough nut to crack and earning her trust would take more than a mating to accomplish. “You also should know that most of the older Weres have the ability to sense or smell a lie. I’m sure Cimby was trained to do it and I would like to teach you how to do it for your own safety. But first I need to trust you.”

She froze, understanding him. Her hands began to shake and tears pooled in her eyes. “You think she can do that? Smell a lie?”

“I know she can. How old are you, Irisi?” His voice was gentle but stern. Kerrick would not allow this child to think she could skate past him. In the short time he’d spent with her as Raccoon, his Alphar power sensed the wrongness in her body. The sickness. She needed help, but in order for him to help her, he needed her honesty.

She sniffed, looking down at her hands as she twisted them. “I know there’s something wrong with me. I still look like a kid.”

He got up from his chair and knelt in front of her, his heart breaking for her as his large hands cupped her face and wiped the tears away. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart. Please answer my question.”

“Fifteen,” she cried, big hiccupping sobs breaking the word up into three syllables. Kerrick pulled her close and she wrapped her skinny arms around his neck, the wetness from her tears rolling over his skin. He stroked her bony back and her peach-fuzzed head.

“We just need to feed you properly and figure out why your growth patterns are abnormal. It’ll be okay.” Kerrick rose with Irisi in his arms, the tiny thing couldn’t weigh more than seventy pounds. She cried silently as he carried her into The Mansion. Once he closed the door she seemed to come back to herself and scrambled from his arms.

“I can walk,” she said, sounding like the teenager she actually was. A fifteen-year-old girl who looked five years younger. She must be miserable.

“Hey, attitude,” he laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Cimby.”

“The other options were worse. Where are we going?”

“Medical center. We’re going to have them give you a checkup and feed you the biggest meal you’ve ever had.”

“I ate when I first got here.”

“Well, you’re gonna eat more. A lot more. And get used to it. We’re putting you on a diet of steak, milkshakes and cake to bring you up to weight and get you growing.”

“I don’t want to get fat,” she whined, scrunching up her face in disgust and wrapping her arms around her tiny waist.

“It’s nearly impossible for Raccoon shifters to get fat. It might be why you haven’t developed yet. Your body processes food at such a high rate, what little you’ve been eating has been singularly dedicated to keeping your body alive. Did your father—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she interrupted, guessing correctly the direction his question was heading.

“Fair enough.” He held his hands up. “But I’d like you to talk about your father with someone, Irisi.”

“I talk to Cimby about it.”

“Cimby won’t always be around.”

She stopped, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. “What does that mean? I know she left somewhere today, but she’s coming back, right?”

“Yes, as far as I know she just went for a drive.”

“As far as you know?
As far as you know
?” Her pitch became higher as her volume grew. “What does that mean? She said she wouldn’t leave me here alone.” Her chest began to heave and her breathing was choppy. She was going to make herself pass out if she didn’t stop. He knelt in front of her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and pulling the power of his dominance to the fore of his mind, letting it influence her panicked state.

“Irisi.” His voice flooded with power and she calmed instantly, lulled by his natural dominance. “Let me carry you to the Med Center.”

“Don’t want to look weak,” she mumbled, fighting the compulsion as much as she could. Damn, but the kid was strong.

“No one would ever think you weak. They wouldn’t dare.”

She fought a little longer, proving how strong she would be once she was healthy, but eventually he swept her up into his arms and carried over to the Med Center. He was an idiot for not doing it in the first place as Lottie was sure to tell him once he got there. Over and over.

“Alphar, the girl is on her last breath and you were running around The Mansion playing games with her?” Her frizzy red hair was held back by a bandana and the lab coat was too big for her skinny arms. Seeing the two redheaded emaciated women together he’d think they came from the same broken home. But Lottie’s illness was something only she could cure.

“We were shifted and just roaming The Mansion.” He combed his hands through his hair, looking down at the girl, worrying at everything that could have gone wrong while they were playing pranks on people, and wondering why he didn’t just bring her here for a checkup in the first place. As Lottie set up an IV and went to work examining Irisi, Kerrick sent Aaron and Rhiannon a text so they could alert Cimby of Irisi’s condition. Lottie drew blood and put it in a machine he knew would analyze it’s chemistry. Lottie didn’t speak as she worked, and neither did Kerrick. All he could do was be with the young girl, and he hated how helpless he felt. About an hour later, Lottie turned from her examinations and tests to face Kerrick with a frown.

“What is her animal? This scent is familiar but I can’t place it.” Lottie placed a hand on the girl’s forehead, closing her eyes and using some healing powers she’d learned to probe for abnormalities. Kerrick had seen her do it a thousand times since she’d first come to The Mansion.

“She’s a—”

“Raccoon,” Cimby said, running into the center and taking Irisi’s hand. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s just exhausted,” Kerrick said as Lottie took her hand away and marked something on a chart. “I gave her a little push into sleep.”

“She’s also dehydrated and seriously malnourished. Do you have any other medical info on her?” Lottie asked Cymbeline as she jotted down some information on a chart. Irisi looked even smaller without those big eyes staring up at him.

“She’ll be sixteen on January 10th. Wereborn. Parents unknown. Had her tonsils removed when she was five. Adopted parents were humans.”

“Raccoons and other similar foraging species need more food than most shifters. We’re going to get her hydrated and feed her up. But she needs to eat every two hours until I say she can go back to regular meals. Understood? Someone needs to monitor this girl constantly to make sure she’s eating.” Lottie placed her hand over Irisi’s forehead and closed her eyes. Her hand glowed a subtle gold as she utilized a magic probe to sense any other abnormalities. “But all that still shouldn’t account for this level of stunted growth.” She looked at Cimby. “She’s fifteen? Are you sure?”

“Positive. I have her birth certificate. But can you look at something else for me?”

“Your face? Looks pretty nasty,” Lottie said bluntly, pointing at the mangled flesh with all the tact of a toddler.

“No, not me. She’s got some lash marks on her back. They’re mostly healed, but I just want to make sure they are healing properly.”

“Of course.” With Cimby’s help, Lottie gently turned Irisi onto her side so she could examine the marks. Her face paled and her jaw twitched as her fingers probed the marks, but other than those few tells, she was all professionalism in her examination. When she was done, she nodded at Cimby, slowly bringing Irisi’s body back to a prone position. “The scars do not look infected and, as far as I can see, are following a normal progression of healing for a shifter of her size and species.” Lottie grabbed the chart and jotted down a note. Her pen broke from squeezing it so hard and she angrily tossed it in the garbage. Lottie may have been ill, but her shifter strength hadn’t yet deserted her. “You sure you don’t want me to look at that?” Lottie pointed to Cimby’s face, retrieving another pen from her lab coat pocket.

“No. Thank you for your help.”

Kerrick pulled up one of the plastic folding chairs kept in the Med Center and nudged Cimby into it. He could smell whiskey on her breath but she was stone-cold sober. He’d have to get a report from Aaron and Rhiannon on what happened while they were out. He would ask her, but her receptiveness to him ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide.

“No thanks necessary, of course,” Lottie said, rubbing her chest. Kerrick noticed she’d been doing that more and more lately. “I’ll be back in a little bit to wake and feed her. Just let her rest for now.” Lottie patted Cimby on the shoulder before leaving the Med Center, heading to check up on her kids no doubt.

Kerrick pulled up his own plastic chair and sat on the other side of the bed, opposite Cimby. After a few moments he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Where did you go while you were gone?”

“Didn’t your lap dogs tell you?” she asked quietly without even a hint of emotion, not lifting her eyes off Irisi’s sleeping face.

“I haven’t seen them since I sent them after you.”

“Are you going to have me followed all the time now, Alphar?”

“No.” He sighed, wishing this whole mating this wasn’t so complicated. “I wish I could do that so I knew you were safe. I wish I could wrap you in cotton and keep you in my bed to protect you. I know you don’t need my protection, Cimby. But that’s not going to stop me from wanting to give it to you. I’m going to—”

“Please stop,” she said quietly, resting her elbows on the bed and covering her face with her hands. “Just stop, Kerrick.”

“I can’t.” He leaned forward, voice soft so as not to disturb Irisi. “I won’t.”

“You can’t pick me.” She raised her eyes and the despair he saw nearly broke him. He’d never seen her usual confidence and put-on indifference fade so quickly. “Why would you want to? I’m not fit to be the mate of the Alphar.”

“I don’t need you to be the mate of the Alphar.” He reached over and gently laid his hand on top of Cimby’s resting on Irisi’s, the connection between the three of them stirring something deep inside his heart. “I need you to be
my
mate and the rest will work itself out. We’ll help each other learn what this whole thing means to us and what that changes.”

“I cannot stop being the Incendiary. You know you need me to be that for your people. I cannot get close to those I am supposed to hunt down and kill.”

“You’re right. We do need the Incendiary. But I need you too. And even though I’m sure you’re denying it constantly in that stubborn head of yours, you need me as well. I’m not giving up on this. Anyway,” he said, lifting his hand to stroke Irisi’s beautiful head. “This young woman needs you here, you really going to desert her?”

“Nice,” she said with a huff, leaning back against her chair and crossing her arms. Kerrick wasn’t fooled by the attitude though, he could see her small smile. “Guilt trip me into staying, use Iri as leverage. I’m sure that will really prove my love and devotion to you. I don’t deny that I need you. I knew I needed you that night we ran together. What I want is for you to see me as an equal, Kerrick, but I also want everyone else to fear me so I can do my job. You can’t tell me that the Alphar’s mate isn’t supposed to be congenial and sweet and charming and—”

He held his hand up to stop her babbling. Now he knew where Irisi got it. “Makar Borisov is the Alphar of Russia. His mate’s name is Valeriya. Valeriya has a temper. If someone displeases her, she likes to bite their fingers off.”

“Russians are crazy.” Cimby shrugged, as if that were an excuse for biting people’s fingers off.

“
Shifters
are crazy. Our mates are crazy and it is okay. That’s why we love them.”

“Are you calling me crazy?”

“No. I’m saying you can be whatever you want to be, whoever you want to be…with me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re mine.” He looked over Irisi’s peaceful face. “So is this one. I like her. She played pranks with me. You know what’s great about being a Raccoon?”

“What?” Cimby asked with a chuckle. Her smile made his Beast purr in contentment, they liked making their mate smile.

“Those nifty little hands hold glue bottles pretty damn well.”

Cimby’s burst of laughter sounded like a symphony of angels.

After a couple of hours sitting at Irisi’s bedside and talking with Kerrick about everything and nothing, Lottie came back to check on the girl.

“Okay, Alphar,” Lottie said, shuffling in on a pair of crocks and rubbing her eyes. “Let’s wake her up and feed her. When was the last time she ate?”