I get out of the passenger side, kicking the door closed and nodding to one of my dad's guards. When I saunter to the back of the vehicle and pop the back hatch, I’m disappointed to find our prisoner is still out cold. I had hoped he would wake up so we could shock him a few times before handing him over. No such luck.
I turn the electricity off on the cage and hoist it out of the back with Cal's help. Together, we carry it through the narrow hallway to the nearest holding room and toss it none too gently inside.
“Son, where the hell have you been?” My father’s booming voice puts a smile on my face. He pulls me into a crushing hug.
Hiding the mate bond from him is going to make this a long night.
CALLUM
Gideon's dad blows intothe room with the force of a hurricane, grabbing his son up in a hug so tight it makes my bones ache just watching. Then it’s my turn. Joshua releases Gideon and crushes me in a similar hug. I cling for a second and hope he doesn’t notice.
By the time he pulls back, my eyes are gritty, and my emotions are raw. Joshua was there for me in ways my father refused to be. I would endure hours of uncomfortable affection in his home before I would offend him.
As if he can read my mind, the older shifter ruffles my hair like I’m still a little boy, then claps me on the back so hard I worry he’s knocked one of my teeth loose. I’m twenty-six years old, but I guess some things never change.
“Welcome home, boys. What did you bring us?” He turns his brown eyes—so similar to Gideon’s—toward the holding room and peers at the prisoner through the two-way mirror. “Gods, did you slam his neck in a door or something?”
I laugh and point at his son.
“The kitty cat was a little heavy-handed with the capture.”
Joshua turns back to his son, raising his eyebrows in a silent demand. It’s a look I’ve seen on his face a thousand times. Predictably, Gideon gives no shits. In fact, he looks less sorry than I've ever seen anyone look, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at me.
“He had it coming, dad,” he growls. “They were keeping those shifters naked in an electric dog kennel.” Joshua's amusement flips to outrage in a flash. I’ve never seen them look so alike.
“It's a wonder you didn't rip his head off, then. We'll have a long conversation with this one when he wakes up,” Joshua says. “For now, let's leave him in there to think about what he's done. Your mothers are very excited to have you both home.” His smile returns as quickly as it disappeared, and he throws an arm around each of our shoulders.
It doesn't escape my notice that he omits my father. There’s no love lost between us, and Joshua knows better than to push us together these days. No, that ship sailed a long time ago—the second I didn't manifest as a nightmare demon like the rest of the family.
Joshua and Gideon keep up a steady conversation as we walk back to the residential part of the complex. Their chatter is punctuated by loud laughter and probing questions, which Gideon narrowly dodges.
When we enter the shifter wing of the compound, some of my anxiety fades. As a teen, I spent more time in this home than the demon quarters. We gravitate towards the kitchen the same way we always used to, where Gideon's mom, Sarah, immediately fusses over her son. She stands on her tiptoes to examine how long Gideon’s hair is, exclaiming her surprise, before pressing excited kisses to both his cheeks.
Too late, I notice Sarah isn’t the only mother in the room.
My mom rises from her spot at the table, looking uncomfortable with Sarah's exuberant display of affection for her son. Not a strand of her blonde hair is out of place. As usual, her greeting for me is about as warm as falling sleet.
“Hello, mother.” Despite the familiar stab of sadness that comes whenever I see her, I bend down to kiss one of her pale cheeks. I couldn't be what she wanted in a son, and she couldn't be what I needed in a mother. It is what it is, but the pain doesn’t seem to be something I’ve grown out of yet.
“It's good to see you, son.” Her voice is crisp, the words unflinchingly polite. She might as well be speaking to a casual acquaintance, but I won’t wilt. She nods firmly, and I reflexively mirror her actions, keeping my cool until the woman I actually want to see swoops in to save me.
“Mallory, look how handsome our boys are,” Sarah exclaims, jostling Gideon out of the way to reach me. She presses a warm kiss to my cheek, and I fold her gently in my arms. As always, her hug makes everything a little better.
Unlike my mother, Sarah is a tall woman, which is common among omni-shifters. At five foot ten, she's just a couple of inches shorter than me. That makes her easy to hug and hard to avoid.
Sarah clasps my face in her hands and looks me over thoroughly; there’s no escaping her perceptive gaze. I try to look normal, but just like when we were boys, nothing gets past her.Whatever she sees in my expression makes her eyes sharpen.Fuck me.Now, it's just a toss-up over whether she keeps her observations to herself or makes them a family discussion.
Sarah tilts her head to give her son a narrow-eyed look, then swivels back to me. The gods only know what conclusion she comes to, but when her mouth splits into a wide, terrifying smile, I’m scared shitless.
Sliding out of her clutches, I drop into a chair and reach for one of her famous chocolate chip cookies. It melts in my mouth. Maybe if I never stop chewing, she won’t be able to question me.
We make small talk for the next few minutes, while Gideon tries to distract his mom with questions about her and Mallory’s gardens. My mother offers a handful of tepid remarks, but she seems uncomfortable and out of place sitting around a simple wooden table in the cozy kitchen.
It's just not her aesthetic. No, Mallory is more evening gowns and formal sitting rooms. I doubt she's ever baked a batch of cookies in her life.
“Where is everyone?” I stiffen as I hear my brother's voice coming from the living room. The cookie sours in my gut when Ciprian walks into the kitchen followed closely by our father.
“Why are you all grubbing around in the kitchen like the help?” Ciprian asks, glancing at me as he snatches a cookie for himself. “Now that you’ve finally crawled out of your cabin in the woods to give us a report, let’s hear it, brother.”
