To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1 (26 page)

“I think that is wise, Alphar.” Cristoff nodded along with many others.

“We cannot stay dormant on this situation any longer, alphas. We will attack Mara’s clan. She will be expecting retaliation for the shifters she killed. Mara may be an ancient, but we will not bow in fear of her power. This is our territory, and we will die protecting it.” His Beast could sense his mate’s tension and he knew it was time. He raised his hand to her.

“Cymbeline, do you have any knowledge that would be of use?” She raised her eyebrows at him. Kerrick nodded, suddenly feeling a sense of shame for not having invited her to participate and introduce her in the first place. He had assumed she would not want to be on display in such a manner, but he could now see he had just used that as an excuse to protect her. He wanted to have her to himself for a little while longer before needing to share her with the world.

“Alphas, meet my mate, Cymbeline Kendall.” She grinned at him and the coy little lick she gave her bottom lip had his pants fitting a little less comfortably. Aaron stood and grabbed a chair, setting it at his right. Kerrick pulled her towards him and she sat, not before he placed a kiss on her palm.

She kissed his cheek with an uncharacteristically sassy bite and turned to the screens, all business. “Forget about the northern Oregon safe house, it is a front. There is one located outside Seattle that usually has low security unless being utilized and since there haven’t been any incidents in that state I doubt it is. The best way to hit the Vryks hard…” she hesitated and guilt flickered in her eyes for a brief moment. “The best way to hit them hard is to take away their vanity.”

Gerrard, the Bobcat alpha, guffawed, scratching his bushy beard. “Their vanity? What will that do?” Kerrick understood what she meant, of course. Their weakness was their compulsion, their absolute obsession of remaining connected to the human race. In order to remain connected, they needed human blood. Vryks drank blood not to stay alive, but to keep their young humanoid appearance maintained. They could subsist on normal food as long as it came from a living creature, but they would transform into their true forms, something even Kerrick had never seen, if they ceased drinking human blood. Human blood was camouflage for Vrykolakas, vanity.

“Vryks employ and house humans as staff in their facilities,” Cimby continued. “They are treated well, mostly, but occasionally a human is given so much blood to ingest they become blood possessed.”

“Blood possessed?” Cristoff asked.

“They feed humans their blood to keep them young and healthy until they are addicted to it and will die if they do not receive the substance on a regular basis,” Michael answered for Cimby with a dark look.

“Take the humans out of the Vryk facility, take away their blood supply…I assure you they’ll get sloppy.” This was the woman Kerrick had mated, intelligent and ruthless.

Daniela spoke next, her hand scratching her forehead in exaggerated concentration. “What do you suggest we do with the humans once they are taken from their Vryks?”

“Most importantly, help them detox,” said Cimby. “They are all blood possessed, every single one of them. We won’t be able to give them their lives back but we should do what we can for them.”

“They’ll not be cooperative,” Robert, an irascible Wolf alpha said angrily. “Our goal in this battle is not to save some blood-hungry humans. They made that choice on their own. It is not our responsibility to rescue them.” Robert’s words were calm despite the tension Kerrick could see vibrating in his muscles. Robert’s pack lived near Mara’s facility and he knew the man was acquainted with some of the Vryks there. Not all Vryks were bad, just as not all Weres turned rogue.

“A lot of them didn’t make the choice to be there,” Cimby countered, withholding any sign of emotion. “Some could have been injured and healed by passing Vryks before supernaturals were revealed to the general public centuries ago. Vryks can’t erase people’s memories of them, contrary to popular belief, so to keep the secret they bring the humans to the facility for a prolonged life of servitude.”

“We should not kill the Vryks indiscriminately. We should give them a chance to surrender,” Leah said after a moment of silence.

“How can you defend them after what they did to your people?” Gerrard asked, looking angry and perplexed by Leah’s willingness to help.

“Because one Vryk does not reflect an entire population just as one attack perpetrated by a group of Weres should not reflect upon an entire species.”

“I agree with the Gator,” Cimby said, Kerrick pinched her thigh for her rudeness. “There
are
good Vryks in the facility, Vryks who I think can help us. I just need to get in touch with them.”

“What Vryk do you put so much faith in? What Vryk do you even know in that clan? How do you know them?” Gerrard asked.

“Yes, what pack do you come from?” Robert added to Gerrard’s inquisitiveness.

“Carter, your Vryk negotiator,” Cimby said. Rhiannon sat up, startled at hearing the name of the Vryk they all knew so well and regrettably liked. “He is Mara’s PR agent to the humans besides his dealings here.” Something dangerous made itself known within Kerrick. A hard pang and a sickly, acidic feeling rose to the back of his throat, making it hard to breathe. Of course he knew Carter. The large and smarmy Vryk had come to The Mansion on many occasions to list Mara’s demands. At first impression, he thought Carter was just an oversized brute acting as a messenger boy. Later he’d come to understand the Vryk was close to the age of an ancient, and more cunning than Kerrick originally thought possible. But how did Cimby know him? There was so much about Cimby’s life that remained a mystery.

Kerrick felt fingers digging into his hand and he realized he’d been squeezing her thigh a bit too hard. He released the death grip he had on her and nipped her shoulder in apology, not caring if his alphas saw the gesture of affection. This sort of open care was the norm for shifters.

“You trust that slime ball?” The usually jolly Cougar alpha, Mac, asked.

“He’s helped me out in tricky situations in the past.” She turned to Rhiannon. “Contact him. He’ll help us gain access to the facility. He doesn’t like the way Mara runs things and is ready to take over.” Her words may have been easy but Kerrick could hear the confidence she put in Carter. It was absolute. Kerrick tried not to hate him, this man who had known Cimby longer than he’d like to think about and who also apparently helped her on missions. What he could only assume was jealousy raged inside him. He took his hands off his mate and placed them on the armrests, not wanting to accidentally cut off her circulation again.

“The soldiers will convene tomorrow at 4:00 a.m., we will arrive by dawn when they are at their weakest.” He spoke before there could be any more discussion regarding Carter’s allegiance. He would speak to Rhiannon and Cimby on that matter privately. “The less casualties the greater the victory, and if we can save the humans in the process, all the better. Anything else?” Kerrick needed the meeting to end, his Beast was telling him it was important and he needed to pay attention to whatever was happening inside him. All he could think of was Cimby in the arms of another man, Carter or otherwise. He had never considered her having past relationships yet now all of a sudden it seemed too relevant to let go.

“Yes.” Cimby shot an odd look his way, probably sensing his distress. “It would be prudent if we could cut their funds in some way. The facility is high tech, has hundreds of occupants and is expensive as all hell to keep operating efficiently. Cutting their funding would be another form of derailment.”

“Leah.” Kerrick addressed the Gator who, besides being a cutthroat wild child, oddly had a knack for anything with a dollar sign.

“I’m on it.” She grinned, whipping a dreadlock behind her, a fiery light of excitement encompassing her black eyes. “I’ll try for the Al Capone method. If that doesn’t work…” She shrugged, her grin leaning towards the feral side. “Bribes are always fun.”

“Do not leave a trail,” Kerrick ordered.

She feigned affront. “Come on,
Alphane
. Don’t insult me.” Kerrick grimaced at the use of the name Alphane. Because Kerrick was the youngest potential to ever defeat an Alphar, the Cajuns and their witch-makers had it in their heads that Kerrick was or would beget some sort of all-powerful Alphar. According to the myth of the origin of Weres and Alphars, upon Alphane’s death his power broke and was absorbed by potential Alphars across the planet. His people dubbed them Alphars, in honor of their fallen leader, and so the Alphars were born for better or worse.

Kerrick nodded his head at the men and women entrusted with the care of his people. “Meeting adjourned. Aaron and Jeremiah will be in touch shortly for where to send your people. Leah, I want an update by then on the financial angle.”

All the screens winked out. “
Alphane
,” Leah said as she winked at him, playful as always. Cimby growled beneath her breath. Leah nodded in deference to Cimby before removing herself from the room. Aaron, Jeremiah, Zach and Rhiannon followed, leaving Kerrick and Cimby alone in the room.

Cimby turned to Kerrick, smiling grimly. She shook her head and placed her mouth on his shoulder, nibbling gently for comfort. Kerrick stroked her hair and tilted his head towards her ear, nibbling on the shell. He felt her shiver and bite down hard over the fabric of his button-up shirt. Kerrick wedged his hands into her hair and pulled her face back, making her look at him.

“How do you know Carter, mate?” he asked, letting a hint of danger penetrate his tone. Cimby snorted. She pulled away from him and had the audacity to laugh.

“Are you jealous of Carter?” she asked incredulously, nipping his cheek as it turned red with frustration.

“Cimby, if there has ever been anything between you and Carter—”

“Stop!” Her hand found his mouth and Kerrick growled. “Kerrick, I am fifty-nine years old. I was not a blushing virgin when we first slept together.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Carter and I have run into each other when I’ve been on missions. He’s helped me out of some tight spots and I’ve returned the favor a few times.”

“Have you fucked him?”

“What? Where is this coming from?”

“Have you fucked the Vryk?”

“Yes!” she yelled back. “It was once and—”

Kerrick pushed her to the hardwood floor and tore her jeans open. She moaned loudly as he thrust his fingers into her warmth, her hands clutched his arms and he felt sharp claws tearing the fabric of his shirt apart. Kerrick pumped his fingers in and out, showing no mercy, feeling the glorious wetness dripping around his fingers. Her eyes glowed and she bit her bottom lip in confused ecstasy. She may not have been a virgin when she first came to him but he would make her feel so good she would never want or think of another man. It was a supremely chauvinistic and machismo point of view but Cimby was his. Kerrick didn’t want to hear about past lovers, even if he had dug a hole for himself and asked. He would only ever allow his lips to touch hers for the rest their lives.

Kerrick growled, removing his hand and grinning when she groaned in annoyance for taking away her pleasure. Her hands moved to his pants and she helped him undo the zipper—rip the zipper would be a more accurate description.

She took Kerrick’s shaft, now hard as stone, and brought the tip down to her opening. Kerrick hesitated, torturing her, almost wanting her to beg for him to enter her. But his mate didn’t beg. She demanded.

“Get inside me now or I’m going to call someone else’s name every time I come.” Kerrick laughed roughly and pushed inside her.

The sex was hard and quick, what they both needed with the coming battle looming over them. After a while she pushed him onto his back to straddle him. He relished her moans of pleasure as she rode him just as fiercely as he had her. When she came his mate moaned the word
mine
and Kerrick joined her some ecstasy-filled seconds later.

She bent over and kissed him, biting his lower lip.

“You were saying?” Kerrick asked and she laughed. Her shirt had remained intact while his was a shredded mess. Both their pants were unsalvageable, strewn about the room.

“You are a caveman, you know that?”

“No, love. I’m just a dominant Alphar.” Kerrick stroked her tangled hair and they remained locked together for a moment. He liked the feeling of just lying with her, spent, his cock inside her. Her muscles clenched with spasms and he smiled in a pride that could only be described as male.

“Kerrick,” she started hesitantly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Don’t worry. I won’t kill him. I may never like him but I know he’s necessary.” Cimby kissed him again, making him smile with a joy so fierce he thought it would consume him.

She pulled back, eyeing him in a predatory way. “You are as much mine as I am yours, understand? Which means I get to go all territorial on your ass when I hear something I don’t like. Or meet any of your former lovers.”

“I would apologize for my behavior, but I would be lying.” She rolled her eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows in that way he knew she hated. “Lady Wolf, your ass will be the only one I think of for the rest of my life.” A chiming laugh rang out from her beautiful lips at the same time a blush crept along her cheeks. Kerrick kissed each one in turn. “Good?”

She nodded and her head reclaimed its place on his shoulder. He kissed her nose and circled her waist with his arms, holding her close.

“So let us chat about the little matter of us having a telepathic link that you oh so conveniently forgot to mention.” He decided it would be prudent to not respond to that comment, but distract her with kisses and loving once more.

Chapter Nineteen

Cymbeline faced the weapon-laden desk with a critical eye. There was a good amount available left to fit in the duffel bag at her feet and she wanted it to be fully stocked. She had already packed a fair amount of smaller firearms with extra clips, but she had not yet focused on the close-contact weapons. Picking up a shiny and well-balanced stiletto knife, one of her favorites, she tested the sharpness of the blade with the tip of her thumb. That vicious and carefully concealed heart of violence within her was pleased to see the small drop of blood well with little to no pressure from the blade, the creature inside her was closer to the surface than ever before. It felt the tension of the upcoming battle and Cymbeline knew she and her Wolf would have to work double time to keep it contained.

Cymbeline sucked the blood off her finger and cleaned the blade with a rag she’d rested over her shoulder, returning it to its previous luster. She slipped the thin knife into a leather sheathe, repeated the process with its mate, and packed the weapons into the duffel bag with all the other items. Irisi, resting on the bed behind Cimby, burst out laughing.

“Cimby, I’m going to Canada, not to war,” she said once her breathy chuckles had subsided. Irisi shook her head at what Cimby thought was a barely efficient weaponry supply for the girl’s trip. She wanted Irisi to be well protected, and while she trusted Michael and Zach to guard her proficiently, there was no harm in the girl being well supplied. Cimby had to admit the amount of anxiety she was feeling towards Irisi’s trip was not helping her keep calm and focus on the upcoming battle. Supplying Irisi with an amalgamation of weapons would help to ease her worries, if only a little bit.

“We’ll be back in a few days once you and
your mate
have finished kicking ass,” Irisi teased, reaching out with a gesture for Cimby to come over to the bed. Lottie had determined it would be safe enough to move Irisi to her new room in Kerrick’s wing, her wing. Their wing. Cimby had not yet come to terms with having a wing of her own yet. But it did sooth Cymbeline’s nerves to have Irisi nearby, instead of continuously rising in the middle of the night and walking to the opposite end of The Mansion to check on her, as she would have done every night if Kerrick hadn’t suggested moving her. It was a pleasure to see more color in Irisi’s cheeks but that was the only positive change Cimby could identify. Irisi still looked emaciated and exhausted.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Irisi huffed, taking Cimby’s hand with a weak squeeze once she’d neared the bed.

“Like what?” Cimby asked nonchalantly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I am only looking. I cannot look at you?”

“Not like that. You know I don’t like your pitying frowns. Zach said he’s close to figuring out how to remove the tattoo without any weird magical side effects, and Lottie said the vitamins are helping to regulate my system. See? I’m getting better.”

“I know.” Cimby rubbed a hand over Irisi’s fuzzy head, loving the feel of the soft bristles. “I will feel better once that tattoo is gone completely.” And she had hunted and destroyed the lives of those who had any hand in hurting Irisi. “They are sure that is what is sapping your energy?”

“Zach is sure,” Irisi said with a slight blush to her cheeks. Cymbeline grinned at the young girl’s obvious crush. She’d heard Zach had been spending a lot of time with Irisi in the hospital, keeping her company. Kerrick thought the young man had grown inordinately protective of the Raccoon and felt it his responsibility to look out for her. Another among Irisi’s frequent visitors was Evan and his little brothers. He had come the past day or so to read and talk about the various comics or manga he’d acquired. To have these shifters welcome her so seamlessly into the flow of The Mansion settled a deep worry within Cymbeline’s heart. Irisi would be okay. They would remove the damn tattoo and she would be okay.

“Well, if
Zach
is sure, then everyone else should just shut up and listen, shouldn’t we?” She poked Irisi in the side, teasing her. Irisi scoffed in a teenage way that just looked bratty on her ten-year-old frame. She looked relaxed and rested, or as rested as she could be in her condition. This was probably as good a time as any to have a heart-to-heart about what she and Kerrick had discussed during their flight back. The unfamiliar pile of nerves in her belly increased their rickety fluttering as Cimby swallowed hard, preparing for whatever answer Irisi would give. But Kerrick was right, she couldn’t wait until after the battle. Cimby was confident in her skills and Kerrick’s power, but if for some reason they didn’t come back, she needed Irisi to know that she was loved and that Cymbeline would never willingly desert her again.

“Iri, I know this probably isn’t the best time. Really I wanted to wait to discuss this with you after you healed completely but Kerrick insisted and he is very much in favor of this course of action—”

“You’re babbling. This is too fun. Can we video this? Are you about to have
the talk
with me? If yes, then I
really
want to video it.”

“Will you quit it, pest?” Cymbeline said, her nerves beginning to combine with agitation at Irisi’s incessant ribbing.

“Then just say it already!” Irisi laughed, flopping her hands on the bed in an exaggerated gesture of annoyance.

“Kerrick and I want to adopt you, you nuisance!” Cymbeline blurted out then clamped her mouth shut, squeezing her eyes closed tight at the horrible way she approached that.

“What?” Irisi asked quietly. Cimby opened her eyes to see the girl looking at her in slack-jawed confusion. “Why would you—why would
he
—”

Cimby took her hand once more, her protective instincts flaring as she felt the girl shaking. “Why would we not? I’m staking a claim on you, pest. You’re mine, and since it seems that I’m never getting rid of Kerrick, you’re his as well.”

“So he is only agreeing to this because it’s what you want?”

“No. But trust me, you’ll wish that was the reason when you realize how protective he is. Kerrick has become rather fond of you since you two went on your pranking excursion. He thinks you are quite wonderful. As do I, but of course that goes without saying.”

“Of course.” They smiled awkwardly before Cimby continued.

“Sorry for yelling it at you but, Irisi, would you like it if Kerrick and I formally adopted you? I mean, I know we’re not the ideal parents for a teen, and I’m—”

“An assassin?” She raised her eyes knowingly, now that she was fully aware of the reason Cimby had to disappear frequently during their acquaintance.

“Yes. Yes, not quite the perfect role model. And there will be a lot of eyes on us as the family of the North American Alphar. Oh, and fair warning, I am going to take every opportunity to turn that attention off me and onto you. You’re much more personable with your Southern charm and sad attempts at banjo playing.”

“Please, Cimby, try not to be too flattering,” Irisi said sarcastically, holding up her hands in a mock feint. “Kerrick said he’d help me learn. Did you see all those instruments in his room?”

“I know. He loves to play. You don’t have to answer right now,” Cimby said. “I just, wanted you to think about it.”

“I don’t need to think about it.”

“No?”

“No. But before I give you my official answer, can I ask you something serious?”

“Of course,” Cimby said, preparing herself for the worst.

“Do I have to call you and Kerrick Mommy and Daddy now? Because that would be weird.”

“Pest.” Cimby laughed, tugging Irisi into a tight hug and breathing in the girl’s scent. To Cymbeline, she would always smell like late-night fires in their meadow, roasting marshmallows and eating their fill of Carolina barbeque. Cymbeline had such a wall around her heart before meeting Irisi, and she knew if it hadn’t been for the little Raccoon making her own dent in that wall, Kerrick would never have been successful in his endeavor to claim her.

Irisi pushed away from the hug and looked up at Cymbeline, a dazzling mist of rare tears filling the girl’s yellow-green eyes. “You have been more of a parent to me than I’ve ever really known, at least since my mom died. I didn’t know what was gonna happen when we came here.” She smiled through the tears, gripping Cimby’s shoulder with a childlike fervor. “But I knew you wouldn’t give me up, I’m too awesome.”

“That’s the first thing we’re going to work on. No child of mine is going to have a fat head.”

“Well,” said a deep voice from the doorway. “All I’m going to do is spoil you.” They both turned to see Kerrick leaning against the door jam, arms crossed and smiling at the scene they’d made. Cimby felt her face heat, and she was amused to see a similar reaction in Irisi’s expression.

“I can already see the therapy hours I’ll need from the conflicting parenting styles,” Irisi joked, trying to make light of the situation when Cymbeline could clearly see she needed some type of affirmation from Kerrick that this was what he wanted as well, no matter how Cymbeline had already tried to reassure her.

Luckily, for both women it would turn out, Kerrick was a perceptive man. He came over to the bed and settled his large frame on the mattress next to Irisi, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. Cymbeline nearly succumbed to the embarrassing pressure of emotions upon seeing the girl’s face scrunch up and burrow against Kerrick’s shoulder. He hugged her close, whispering soothing words in ear. Cimby never thought him more a hero than he was proving himself to be at that moment. The poor man would have a lot to deal with taking herself and Irisi on. One woman, an emotionally stunted and slightly psychotic mate, the other an emotionally wounded and afflicted daughter.

“I would be honored if you let me care for and protect you, Irisi. I would also be honored if you would consider me part of yours and Cimby’s family. Is that all right?” Irisi didn’t even lift her head from his shoulder, but they both heard the muffled yes. Cimby smiled at Kerrick and rubbed Irisi’s back up and down, taking in the significance of the moment. A few weeks ago she would have never imagined her life could have been filled with so much joy. It was almost unnatural for her to experience this suffocating weight of emotion.

After a few moments Irisi pulled away from Kerrick with an embarrassed smile. He cupped her face and used his thumb to brush away a tear.

“Listen to Lottie while we are away, understand?” Kerrick ordered Irisi.

“Keep drinking those shakes,” Cimby added, pulling Irisi in for a hug of her own. The girl dug her fingers into Cimby’s shirt, holding on tight. “Help her with the other kids if you have the energy.”

“Okay. Be safe, please?” She looked over at Kerrick. “Both of you.”

“You know I shall kick some ass, as you like to say.”

Irisi smiled, and Cimby could see the girl she was meant to be beneath the pale skin and meatless bones. She was a girl with fire in her heart and determination in her blood, a girl Kerrick and Cymbeline would be proud to help Irisi become.