“You were eight!”
“And I survived. They took us both, remember? Beau spent his time sniveling for his mama, curling in on himself, and refusing to do what he had to do—definitely took after the weaker side of his genetics.” The scorn was back. Beaumont wanted to slap that sneer right off his son’s face, but the man in front of him wasn’t his son. They shared genetics, but that’s where the connection ended.
“So you killed, and you survived, and you got out eventually. Why didn’t you come and find me then? You had to know I would never stop searching for you. You had to know that about me, surely.”
Vulnerability flashed over James’s face for a split second before it was gone—replaced by a grimacing mask. “You conformed,” he said. “The men who had me, they knew about you—who you were and, more importantly, who you used to be before you met your wife. A man who took what he wanted, lived wild, met every threat with a punch and a snap of those huge teeth of yours, and to hell with the consequences. But then you met your wife, and you became a shell of who you could be.”
“That wife you dismiss so readily was your beloved mother. Didn’t you care for one second what those same people you aligned with did to your mother and sister? Victoria was only four.”
“If it’s any comfort, the man who did that is dead—I ripped his throat out with my bare hands. That has to count for something, right? Are you proud of me?”
“James.” Beaumont took a step closer. He felt physically sick, and like any other time in his life when he felt he couldn’t go on, he let his responsible side take over. “The lives you’ve destroyed, the children who’ve been abused in your name… this can’t go on. The facility you had here in the jungle—the men in there were left to die in cages—no food, no water, nothing but their own shit for company. How can I possibly be proud of something like that?”
The scowl on James’s face was so like his. “Those damned scientists had no right running out on me. They were the ones that left those animals there, not me.”
“You paid for that facility, and they weren’t animals. They were living men like you and me,” Beaumont yelled. “Being top dog isn’t all about getting massages and wallowing in the fear of those around you. You had a responsibility to living souls…”
“What about your responsibility to your family? Where were you when the house was invaded? Working. Well, guess what? When those men died, I was working, too. And they didn’t all die, did theyFather?Two of my best operatives are currently living the good life with a fucking shifter council member—you know the one.” James’s eyes narrowed. “The same man who gave you the shifter council lead position. Are you here to arrest me, Daddy dearest? Or maybe you’re going to kill me. Isn’t that what you people do to shifters who don’t follow the laws like good little pets?”
“How can you say that?” Beaumont’s heart was pounding so hard he thought it would explode. “I got on the council because I was desperate to find out what happened to you and your dead brother, sister, and mother. Why they were killed. Why you were taken.”
“Well then, this is your happy day. I’ll tell you why you found the bodies of your wife and daughter, why you ended up burying one son and losing another.”
Beaumont wasn’t sure he wanted to know anymore. He could hear Duron behind him, was conscious of the cooling body of a shifter so like Nico and Teilo still on the floor. Aware too that the three men who smelled like his son still had their guns trained on Wyatt.
“Why did it happen, James? And don’t just tell me it was my fault because I’ve carried that guilt for over a hundred years already. I know it was my fault. But tell me something I don’t know. Tell me the truth. Why were we targeted? Why did someone hate us so much that they destroyed the only goodness I’d known in my life until recently?”
James cocked his head at the last sentence, looking between Beaumont and Duron. “Got a thing for dick now, have you Dad?” James shook his head. “Not that it matters. You won’t be alive much longer to enjoy it. Cast your mind back. Do you remember Stephan Montgomery?”
It took a moment for Beaumont to remember who James was referring to. “He was one of the foremen on the railway section I was working on. He worked for me. What about him?”
“He saw you shift.” James grinned. “Admittedly, at the time, he just thought you were sneaking off getting a piece of secret nooky, and he wanted some for himself. So, he followed you one night and saw you turn into your giant reptile. And, after crawling out from the bottle of whiskey he used to deal with the shock, and being underpaid and overworked, he sold that information to the highest bidder. A man named Andromeda. Ring any bells?”
Andromeda. Fuck.But James hadn’t finished talking.
“Alligators are such fascinating creatures, don’t you think? They have that whole lone wolf persona going on, but when a mother alligator’s nest gets threatened, she will fight to the death to protect them. But you’re no female, and you weren’t there to fight that day. And now here we are. Are you going to fight to live today?”
Beaumont’s erratic heart stopped. “That’s what this has come to? You would kill your own father?”
“I’ll let your grandsons have that honor.” James smirked. “I’ll even tell them to drop the guns. I said drop the guns,” he raised his voice, watching as the men did as ordered. “Now, it’ll be a fair fight,” he said, dropping his voice level again. “Who knows, if you win, which I doubt, but if you do, I might even let you take me in. I can’t be fairer than that, can I?”
“I am your father,” Beaumont tried one last time. “I caught you when I could.”
“And then you dropped me.” The sneer was back. “I stopped needing a father a long time ago, Beaumont, or should that be Council Lead Beaumont. Kill him, boys.”
Beaumont was aware Duron shifted in an instant, ready to protect his mate. But it took him a moment, still stunned by James’s words. His own son had just ordered his death. A swipe to his side with a sharp pair of claws jolted him, and Beaumont let go of his restraint, his alligator surging forward and taking over.
My blood is in these veins.His brain screamed at him as he chomped on the leg of one of the triplets.This is my grandson,his psyche protested as he chomped on the head of the same man and felt it dissolve under his teeth. But the three men were told to target him, and they were skilled, fast, and deadly. More men arrived, and then more, and still they fought.
He had nothing left but pure instinct—kill or be killed. Shoving his human thoughts into a lockbox, Beaumont worked on surviving and protecting his mate, who was holding his own. More men came, and then more. For all they’d heard Devil was a recluse, the man had a fucking private army on standby—no one had ever mentioned that. Beaumont bit, and thwacked, and bit again until the sickly stench of blood was all he could smell, and his stomach was ready to empty over the carcasses he left in his wake.
Beaumont was wounded. His own blood was in the mix, but he welcomed the pain as he fought. Physical pain could be healed with a shift. The mental turmoil threatened his sanity, and Beaumont wasn’t sure if he would ever heal from it. So he fought his mate by his side, and when it was finally over, and the last man stopped screaming, Beaumont stood panting, still in his alligator form, his keen eyes searching the room.
Where’s James?There was no sign of him anywhere.
For a moment, Beaumont thought Duron wouldn’t answer, and he worried the bigger man might’ve gotten wounded again. But then he heard Duron’s voice.He’s gone. Wyatt took him. He’s protecting his mate.
Bastard!Beaumont bellowed long and loud, the sound reverberating across the corpses, and bouncing off the walls of the sterile home that was so like his own. It hid the sound of his heart shattering into a million pieces.
