Even worse than all-out war was the thought of facing my parents’ disapproving stares and the grandfathers lecturing us about how we’d disgraced the family name, dragging the Syndicate, and everything we stood for, through the mud.
People could say what they wanted about us being villains or a family of thugs with no law to take us down, but they couldn't deny we kept the supe community in line and under a firm thumb. Our rule was fierce, bloody, and absolute, but it was simple: follow the damn rules, pay your dues, and you were left alone. It was easy if you let it be.
“We can’t let that happen,” I muttered under my breath, envisioning Tata and Papu circling me, yelling in my ear for all eternity. A cold shiver ran down my spine.
“Don’t worry, Nov. We’ll find them, and we’ll make sure the kid gets back home. I bet his parents are worried sick.”
I winced inwardly. I’d only been thinking about the falloutIwould face if the human died. Shit. That was a little heartless, right? Still, what he said snagged in my mind.Parents. A lightbulb went off. The kid had to have parents, ones who would report him missing and give us more information to help find him.
“You’re a genius, Z!”
I texted my IT guy, telling him to hack into the human police network and send me reports for any children that had been reported missing in the past few days. I was sure that I could narrow down the options by cross referencing some of the other information we had. Maybe we could take some pictures back to that fairy kid to see if he could ID him.
“I mean, I know I’m a genius, but… for what exactly?”
The look Zeth was giving me nearly broke me. His uneasy eyes darted between the road and me, his hesitant crooked smile stretching wider when I met it. All of it was like he was screaming,tell me what I did right!
Not a next second later, I folded over, laughing so loud and hard my stomach hurt. Maybe it was because of the stressful situation, or perhaps I just needed a release, but I couldn't stop.
“I was kinda serious,” he mumbled, which only made me laugh harder. It took a few minutes for me to catch my breath.
Wiping a tear from my eye, I chuckled. “Man, I needed that. Thanks, Z.”
His eyes flicked toward me, lingering, waiting. I let the silence stretch before finally giving him his answer. “The parents. You gave me the idea to check the database for missing human kids. I’ve got Mac on it now.”
The grin that lit up his face was contagious, and I felt my chest tighten. My wolf let out a small whine in the back of my mind, her yearning for the mate she’d chosen rising in my gut.
Like an addict, I drank in his scent, sweet cherries and creamy almonds with a spicy end note of tobacco. That rich sweetness filled my lungs, and memories rushed through my head.
When our fathers introduced us, and I kicked him in the shin; when he made a trap in the spot I usually shifted, and I fell in; how I’d pretended to cry until he rushed over in a panic and hauled me out, apologizing over and over like the world had ended.
As much as Zeth had grown into a hardened man I could trust with my life, he was still my best friend. He had this gooey center that made me feel… comfortable. Around him, I was safe; I didn’t have to be the Syndicate boss. I could just be me.
It was why my wolf and I loved him, not to mention why she’d picked him as our mate.
But thinking about the past didn't bring only good memories.
Pain cut deep as those old memories of rejection resurfaced. The training room. My confession. His disappearance the next day, a clear rejection of me. That day, I started to build the walls around my heart. That day, my wolf became lifeless, only stirring at the need for pain and the scent of blood, or on rare nights when the moon called, and she was compelled to answer.
Until she scented that fighter, Nick.I still didn’t know what that meant.
“That’ll help us find him faster, especially if there’s a photo. Send it to me when you get it. I’ll push it through the grapevine.”
I nodded, shaking off the shadows of the past. The old feelings sank back to where they always lived, lying heavy in the pit of my stomach. Maybe it would always be like this, yearning for a man I couldn’t have, especially not now.
Absently, I traced my fingers over my wrist, reminding myself that this had been my choice. No one had forced me. Aniyah’s mates had shattered the spell binding her, but only because they craved her with a hunger that went bone-deep, needed her so completely they wouldn’t leave, even when she pushed them away. Maybe it took that kind of devotion to break it?
Ezra was still digging for answers, but progress was slow. The woman who had inked the tattoos was killed a year later by a jilted lover, which meant finding the truth about this spell was going to be a damn near impossible task.
We slid down Highway 93, black and endless beneath the wheels, heading for Kings Point. Underground human fights weren’t usually my playground since I left it to their human gangsters and/or billionaires to duke it out, but this was still myterritory. Every shadow in my state belonged to me, whether the humans knew it or not. That was why I kept an undercover man everywhere. It had taken me a couple years to do it, but now there was nothing I couldn't get into if I wanted to. Tonight, my guy handed us a key to a very private door.
Vegas had once been the heart of bloodsport, the cathedral of violence, but since I’d moved the Rossey head base into Montana, I’d been chiseling out a new crown jewel. Whitefish and the surrounding cities were becoming the hub for supe fighting.
Fighters, both supes and humans, followed the scent of opportunity north, and the money followed with them, particularly from humans who loved to watch the bloodsport. Hedge fund brats, thrill-seekers, men and women with more cash than conscience, all of them wanted that slice of violence and brutality that the professionals couldn't give you. So, it didn’t surprise me that some rich human had purchased a secluded plot of land and built his own arena. Everyone wanted to play at being king; it was just time to bring him back to reality.
The road twisted like a serpent until my watch blinked eleven thirty. An hour and a half gone, but there was still time to catch blood on the canvas. The rough dirt road turned into smooth, pale concrete in an instant, and I knew we were getting close.
The light grey river led us to a mansion that rose like a fairytale rewritten in greed. The three-story concrete monstrosity, with its blackout windows and shadowed balconies, was surrounded by silence but humming with power.
