White Knight (7 page)

“Very colorful, Alpha.”

“Trust me, that was not a metaphor, it was fact.” Anger simmered right below Bishop’s learned calm. He wanted to hang up and get the man’s snobby voice out of his ear, but he needed as much information as he could coax out of Atwood first. He’d contacted the loup, a species the Magi considered no better than animals, for a specific reason. “It’s been two months since the first attack. Why reach out now?”

“My daughter is in the middle of this war, and I want to see her safe. It’s why I met with Fiona in Philadelphia. To ensure Brynn’s protection in all of this.”

“Bullshit. You barely had the time of day for Brynn before all of this, so try again Magus. I want the truth, or this conversation ends.”

Someone knocked. Knight and Jonas slipped inside together, both alert but silent. Bishop held a silencing finger to his lips.

“Fine,” Atwood said. “My concern is closer to home. Once the hybrids are finished getting what they want from you, my fear is that they will turn on the Magi.”

Bishop didn’t stop a bark of angry laughter. “So you want our help to stop your rogue creations, because you don’t want them to attack you? You made them, you can put them down your own damned self.”

Rook, Brynn, and Jillian arrived together. Knight pointed at Brynn and mouthed the word “father.” Brynn paled.

“I was hoping you would be more open to collaboration,” Atwood said. “After all, we do have a common goal. If you change your mind, my daughter knows how to contact me.”

“Please, do hold your breath waiting.” Bishop hung up, annoyed at himself for the childish comment. He inhaled deeply, letting the oxygen calm his anger to a manageable level.

“That was my father?” Brynn asked. She’d huddled in one of the chairs, arms wrapped around her middle, Rook behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

“Yes.” Bishop shook himself. “He wants us to team up to stop the hybrids.”

“Are you serious?” Rook asked.

“He used Brynn’s safety as an excuse, but he’s worried that once the hybrids have finished toying with our lives, they’ll turn on the Magi.”

“Bastard wants us to do the dirty work, so they don’t get attacked by their own creations.”

“In a nutshell.”

“Can we call him back so I can say fuck off and go to hell?”

Bishop suppressed a smile.

“That was ballsy, considering this whole mess is Atwood’s fault in the first place,” Knight said. “He must think we’re distraught fools who’d accept any help we can get.”

“The Magi created the hybrids to make our runs turn against each other,” Bishop said. “Now that they’ve lost control, they want us to clean up their damned mess.”

“It’s how the Magi work,” Brynn said. “They don’t do their own dirty work. They never have. They get others to do it for them.”

Bishop suspected as much, but something in Brynn’s voice hinted at a specific incident, rather than a judgment of the whole. “Have they done something like this before?”

Her face went scarlet and she curled in on herself even more. Knight and Jonas stepped closer, instinctively closing ranks to protect the distressed woman.

Rook knelt beside her chair, his concern for his mate plain on his scarred face. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“This isn’t the first time the Magi have used others as their pawns,” Brynn said. Her voice was high, choked with unshed tears.

Bishop hated causing his brother’s wife pain, but he had no choice. “Tell me.”

“The war between loup and vampires.”

He was familiar with the history of that long, bloody feud, incited by the vampires attacking the sanctuary town in Florida. The loup had retaliated in kind, and the result was the near-extinction of the vampire race. Every loup knew the story. “What about it?” he asked.

“The vampires didn’t start it. The Magi attacked the town in Florida and made it appear as though it was a vampire attack. Your loup then attacked a vampire nest, believing they were retaliating first.”

Disbelief hung heavily in the air. Bishop stared at Brynn, whose misery was couched in truth. The loup had been tricked into starting a war with the vampires, and the Magi had kept it a secret for more than sixty years. He glanced at Jonas, who looked ready to explode but was keeping his temper in check. Knight appeared thoroughly disgusted by the whole thing.

Rook made a horrified noise. “Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?”

“I couldn’t.” Brynn wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t. Long ago I swore an oath to protect my people. It was a secret I was forbidden to share.”

“What about the oath you swore to me on our wedding day?” Rook stood up, a kind of distress rolling off him that Bishop didn’t recognize. He’d never seen his youngest brother so confused. “You withheld important information about our enemy.”

“I’m still Magi, Rook.”

“You’re loup garou, too, or is that something you can conveniently forget?”

“Of course not.” A bit of Brynn’s own temper, likely urged on by her mostly silent inner beast, had her sitting up straighter. “It’s impossible to forget when you have a foot in two worlds, but will never fully be part of either. I know I’m different.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“It’s not about trusting you.” Brynn met Rook’s glare with one of her own.

Bishop didn’t want them hashing out their marriage in front of an audience. “Regardless, Brynn, you’re a member of this run and this family,” he said in his strongest Alpha tone. “You possessed important information, and you should have told me, if no one else. As your Alpha, I needed to know this.”

“You’re right,” Brynn said. “I’m sorry. I can’t fix that I kept it from you both, but I am sorry that I hurt you. All of you.”

“Thank you. I understand you wanting to protect the people you were raised to respect, but my first priority will always be to this run. Period. Is there anything else pertinent to this issue that I need to be aware of?”

“Not that I was ever told. But because of my station, I wasn’t told much.”

“Are you sure you want to blow off Atwood?” Knight asked.

Every head in the room turned in his direction.

“What are you thinking?” Bishop asked, incredibly curious why Knight would consider a partnership with the Prime Magus.

“Atwood is scared that the hybrids might come after him, for whatever reason. If we can draw him out, whether here to Cornerstone or to another location, it might bring the two hybrids out of hiding.”

“You want to use my father as bait?” Brynn asked.

“Yes.”

If Brynn had anything else to say on the matter, she held it in and glared at the floor.

“Atwood is a fire elemental,” Bishop said. “I don’t like the idea of him getting too close to our town.”

“Another place, then,” Knight said. “It may or may not work to draw out the hybrids, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

“How likely is it he’ll agree to a face-to-face?”

“Not likely,” Brynn said. “He rarely goes anywhere except his home and the Congress compound.”

“Fiona got him to meet her in Philadelphia,” Rook said.

“She offered him my safety, and he went in order to secure it. What can we offer him?”

“The same thing, plus one,” Knight said. “He has a grandchild on the way. He’ll want assurances that the baby’s safe.”

Rook snarled. “We are not using my kid as bait.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Knight was bizarrely calm under the direct aim of Rook’s fury. “If Atwood knows he has something else of importance here in addition to Brynn, we can force him to meet us under our terms.”

Bishop had to admit it was a good plan. Rook still seemed perturbed by the idea, but Brynn was nodding repeatedly.

“That would work,” Brynn said. “It’s difficult to reconcile the man who raised me so distantly with the man who told me in Philadelphia that he loved me, and that he’d done everything in order to assure my safety. But I believe he loves me, and I agree that if he finds out about a grandchild, he’ll do whatever he can to protect us. Including working with the loup to stop the last two hybrids.”

“Getting Atwood’s cooperation could help us find them faster,” Bishop said. “And help us find Shay.”

Knight’s expression hardened—he’d been on that thought process the entire time, Bishop was sure of it. Respect for his brother hit him hard. Knight was thinking like an enforcer and a leader, even though he was technically neither.

“I’ll give Atwood a day to stew on it,” Bishop said. “And for everyone here to consider it. If there are no objections this time tomorrow, I’ll contact Atwood about a meet-up.”

Knight appeared on the verge of objecting to something—probably waiting a day before giving in to the request from Atwood—but he stayed silent. He was also the last to leave when Bishop dismissed the meeting.

“We’ll get her back, Knight,” Bishop said as Knight reached the trailer door. “I promise.”

Knight glanced over his shoulder, something burning in his eyes that Bishop hadn’t seen in a long, long time: absolute resolve. “You’re right, brother. We will.”

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run! RUN!

“Shut up!” Shay screamed at the walls to silence her beast, whose unrelenting insistence on running and escape was driving her insane. Physically Shay could not heed her beast’s demands, even though the idea of running free in beast form made her heart leap with want and joy. She had been cooped up for so long that she no longer remembered what that kind of freedom felt like. Or what sunlight felt like on her skin.

Shay glanced at the wriggling baby in the bassinet who was playing with a stuffed dog and seemed unaffected by her outburst. Chelsea was, she could guess, about three or four months old, which fit with the timeline Desiree had given her—plus the lack of teeth. For now she had to assume that loup and Magi children developed at a similar pace, as loup did to human children.

It had only been two days since she was allowed to shift, but the quarterly hadn’t been enough to satisfy her beast. Loup did poorly in captivity. They needed space and sunlight and the social aspect of a sanctuary town. She had been isolated, in dim light, and mostly alone for over a month.

“I need to get out of here,” she said to Chelsea, who simply cooed and blew a raspberry. “I don’t know if I can take you with me, but I will come back. I promise, little one.”

Her joints ached as she crossed the room to her mattress. Before she could sit, someone knocked, and she cursed herself for not paying attention. The collar was dimming her senses, as was the lack of proper nutrition. A steak and bottle of water once a day—sometimes every two or three if the hybrids were away—was not enough for a loup garou to survive. Despite the shift, she was still dying one day at a time.

“Shay?” Leopold’s hesitant voice was muffled by the door between them. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, I’m here.” She changed directions to the door and leaned hard against the wall. The knob had been replaced with something she had no hope of jimmying open. “Where are the others?”

“Out. I’m lonely.”

“I’m lonely, too, Leopold.” She missed her Cornerstone family so much it had become a physical ache deep inside of her. An ache so much worse than her wasting body. “We need family around. It’s part of who we are as loup garou.”

He was quiet for a while. “Is that why I’m sad when my sisters leave me alone?”

“Yes.” Leopold was only a few years younger than her, but he didn’t have nearly the same maturity. She had no idea of his mental development or his schooling, only that he reacted and spoke like someone no older than eight or nine. She hated herself for exploiting that but it was an opening she could use to get them both to safety. “I think I’m less lonely because I have the baby in here with me.”

“I tried to take care of her. I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Lots and lots.”

“Would you like to hold her? We can visit together, the three of us.”

“But the door is locked.”

“Do you know where Desiree keeps the key?”

“Around her neck.”

Damn it all.
“Can you find any tools so you can break the lock?”

“Oh no. I can’t. If I break it, Des will know I was inside. She’ll be mad.”

“She won’t be mad, I promise. She’ll be glad that we were spending time together as a family. I know she wants that, she’s just scared I don’t want to be here. That’s why she locks me up.” Truths couched in lies.

Silence.

“Leopold?”

“I should wait and ask Des when she comes home.”

“And when will that be? Hours? A day? Do you want to be alone that long, when Chelsea and I are right here? Please.”

“I don’t know.”

He wasn’t saying no. He probably didn’t know how to say yes. Leopold struck her as someone not used to making his own decisions. He did what his sisters told him to, because he had no practice in thinking for himself. She had to try a new tactic. Anything to make him open that damned door.

“Leopold, are you happy here?”

“I’m not happy when I’m alone.”

“Neither am I. No loup is. We aren’t meant to be alone.”

“I’m happiest when my sisters are here. It was best when Fiona and Victoria were alive.” His voice pitched higher, sadder. “I miss them.”

“I know you do. My father died not long ago, and I miss him very much. I understand your sorrow. We can share it together if you come inside. You won’t be alone.”

More silence. Shay bit back a scream of frustration. She was close to breaking him. So close to an agreement. She studied the door, hoping to make this easier on him. It no longer had a knob on her side, and it opened outward, into the hall, which kept the hinges on the other side. Out of her reach.

The hinges. Of course!

“Leopold, I think I know of a way to open the door without damaging it. You can put it back together before Desiree comes home.”

“I can?” Hope colored his words so sweetly.

“Yes. Can you feel the hinges on your side? The slim, rounded metal part the door swings on?”

“Yes. Yes, I feel three of them.”

Her beast whined with relief. “Okay good. Can you feel at the top of each one how a flat part is there? Like a nail head? That is a pin that is holding the hinge together.”

“I think so. Yes.”

“If you can find something strong and slender, you can push the pin up and out from below. The door will open easily then, and it won’t damage anything.” Shay wasn’t entirely certain of the damage thing, but Leopold wouldn’t know the difference. She would be long gone before the hybrids realized she’d tricked him.

“Okay, but can you promise me something?”

Her heart skipped. “What is it?”

“Promise me you’ll stay in the room. Des and Ally will be really mad if they find out you got out. They want you here to take care of Chelsea.”

She swallowed hard, sick at lying so blatantly to her own brother. Someone she needed to trust her. But more than him trusting her, she needed him safe. And she couldn’t make him and Chelsea safe until she was free. He’d never leave with her this way, and taking Chelsea was too dangerous. Shay was exhausted and raw and filthy, and the last thing she needed was someone reporting her to the human police.

I am so sorry for this, brother.

“I promise,” she said.

“I’ll be back.”

Shay hauled her aching bones back over to the bassinet. Chelsea had eaten less than an hour ago. The sisters knew how to heat a bottle. She suspected Leopold had some knowledge of it from his previous comment about caring for the baby.

“I’ll come back for you, little one,” Shay whispered. “You’re coming home with me, I swear it.”

Chelsea yawned, her tiny fists clutching the stuffed dog.

Shay ignored the pang in her heart, the hatred of leaving such an innocent life behind. Her only consolation was knowing the hybrids loved the child as much as she did.

She returned to the door, wishing she had something to wear besides the faded, stained dress she’d been given. Wishing she had shoes for who-knew-however long her journey toward help would be. But with freedom lurking so close, little mattered now except for achieving it. Her beast longed for it, demanded it, pacing like the caged animal it was and had been for weeks.

Movement outside the door sent her pulse racing. She tried to relax so Leopold wasn’t immediately suspicious. She didn’t want to hurt him when she fled.

Metal scraped. Creaked. A sliver of light appeared on the left side of the door. Then it listed to the side, still attached by whatever locks Desiree had installed, but with enough give for Leopold to slip inside the room. He was beaming, proud of his accomplishment, his youthful face alive with delight despite his cloudy eyes.

Very soon she would crush that.

“Shay?”

“Hello.” Shay wanted to hug him as much as she wanted to run from him.

He snapped his fingers a few times, his head cocking. Listening. Like a bat using sound waves to map its surroundings. “This is better. Being with you.”

“I knew it would be.” She glanced at the door, her beast demanding she bolt now, while she had the chance. She couldn’t anticipate the movements of the two hybrids, and she had no idea what sort of obstacles she would face during her exit. The entire building, however large, could be locked down tight as a drum, with no real escape.

I have to take that chance.

She would not sit on her ass and waste away in this room, and she couldn’t allow her brother and niece to do the same.

“You sound better than the last time,” Leopold said. “Less sick.”

“I am less sick. Desiree allowed me to shift, and that helped, but this collar they force me to wear? It also makes me sick.”

“Why?”

“It’s laced with silver, and silver is extremely poisonous to our people.”

“Our sisters hurt you on purpose?”

“They don’t want me to leave, so they’ve made sure I’m too weak to fight them.”

“I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

By the gods, Shay hated hearing him so heartbroken over something that wasn’t his fault or his to fix. It did nothing to bend her resolve. Coming back for them both was best. She couldn’t save them from inside this room.

This is the right thing to do.

“Would you like to hold Chelsea?” Shay asked.

“Yes.” He moved closer, feeling his way along the floor, head angled toward the sound of her voice.

She picked up the baby, who yawned but didn’t wake, and settled her into Leopold’s outstretched arms. He grinned so brightly it almost hurt. “There you go,” Shay said. “She’s sleeping.”

“Yes. She’s so quiet. I’ve missed her.”

“Now you can visit again.”

With his attention on the baby, Shay silently slipped backward. No creaks on a cement floor, no click from her bare feet. He was still enamored of his niece when Shay shoved the door back into place. She snapped a pin off the floor and jammed one, two, three into place.

Banging on the other side made her heart skip.

“Shay? Why did you do that?” Leopold’s muffled voice was cracked, maybe even tear-filled.

“I’ll come back for you, I swear it. I’ll take you home with me.”

Shay didn’t wait for a response. She turned and fled down the hall, past rows of doors very much like her own. Some sort of old, cheap apartment housing. At the end of the dank hall was an exit door. She pushed against the metal bar, and it gave way with a loud squeal. The stairwell smelled of mildew and old things, but also of the hybrids. And sage.

And freedom. The faintest wisp of fresh air tickled her nostrils.

She pounded down flights of industrial stairs, heedless of noise or direction. Down was all that mattered. After at least six, the scents of fresh air and motor oil thickened. Heart filled to bursting with need and anxiety, Shay tore down a seventh flight and hit the ground floor. The stairs exited into another long corridor, this one ripe with the odors of decay and death. Black clouds of flies buzzed here and there.

Whatever they’d been feeding her, she no longer believed it had come from the market.

Nauseated, adrenaline pumping, Shay ran toward the distant glow of sunlight. Nothing mattered except sunshine and fresh air and freedom, and she was so close. She could see it on the other side of a wall of dirty windows and doors.

She slammed against the metal door. It didn’t budge. She pushed and hit, but the bar didn’t move. It was locked from the outside.

Shay swallowed a scream of frustration. She studied the glass windows, positive they weren’t reinforced. Many had cracked with age. Nothing in the small lobby presented itself as a potential weapon. Nothing to use to break open a window.

She pressed her nose to the glass. An empty, uninspiring street and a vacant, graffiti-covered brick building across it. No one in sight to help her.

Undeterred, Shay lifted her dress high enough to wrap the ragged skirt around her right fist. She reared back and punched. Pain shot up her hand even as the glass broke. A second blow brought more of both—only this time, the glass shattered. She cleared a hole wide enough to climb through.

Ignoring the slices and tears to her skin as she wriggled through the hole, Shay fell to the broken cement sidewalk. Cool fall air caressed her skin, welcoming her back into the embrace of Mother Nature. She lay in shadow, but beyond the building loomed sunshine, so bright and cheerful she wanted to cry.

I’m out. I’m actually out.

And vulnerable. If the hybrids showed up before she got safely away, she had no ability to fight them. Not with that damned collar. She had to find some way to get it off. Then she had to figure out where she was.

After that, she’d find Knight. He’d come. He would help her collect her family, and then they’d all go home to Cornerstone.

Soon.

Shay forced her aching, bleeding body to her feet. She turned toward what she believed to be north, and she ran.