Destined to Dream, page 23
There’s a heavy beat of silence before Beck throws his head back and laughs, the others emerging from throughout the house to see what all of the racket is about. They get just as big of a kick out of it as Beck, and while their laughter is contagious, I see the same resignation on Carter’s face that’s on Kasen’s, knowing it’s going to be a bitch to clean.
Rising to my feet and getting closer for a better view down the hall, I cringe, but consider it a blessing in disguise. It might take hours to clean up, but better than hauling any more heavy-ass boxes. I already have enough grout under my nails to redo the bathroom, so may as well add some paint to the mix and pretend it’s nail polish.
“I’ll help, where do we start?”
Carter uses the can and his hand to scoop as much of the huge puddle on the floor up as he can, starting at the worst of the mess. “Back of the truck is a package of rags in an empty bucket if you want to grab them, and there should be some dish soap in the kitchen. Not ideal, but the more we can clean up before it dries, the better, and we’ll go from there.”
Nodding, I head towards the door, Malcolm already in motion to accompany me. It may be a pretty abandoned area on the edge of the city, most of this block under construction with only a few families already moved in, but no one is about to let the resident vampire out of the house unsupervised. The door’s already wide open, and it’s a short jaunt to the small moving truck in the driveway a stone’s throw away.
When we reach the truck, Malcolm offers me a hand as I start up the ramp, more out of courtesy than necessity. It helps us pretend that it takes two people to grab some rags instead of acknowledging the awkward situation of me requiring a babysitter.
Kasen’s voice whispers, “Don’t think of it like a babysitter, think of it as being so important that you require a bodyguard. And honestly, gorgeous, that isn’t a lie. Are you going to try and deny that Malcolm wouldn’t have assigned you a bodyguard anytime you left Drake Enterprises without him no matter your species? You know better than that.”
“What’s with that look?” Malcolm asks with a smile, waiting at the opening of the truck as I grab the bucket and new package of rags from the back.
“Just Kasen pointing out that you’re controlling and obsessive, but in a hot way so I should consider myself flattered,” I tease.
I make it partway down the ramp before he’s grabbing my hips and lifting me off, not removing his hands as he sets me on my feet. “Seems like a perfectly reasonable assessment to me.” Amusement dances in his eyes as he looks down at me. Lifting one hand to tuck a stray wisp of hair behind my ear, he asks, “Growing tired of me already?”
“Nah, Kasen’s right.” Rising up on my toes, I press a lingering kiss to his lips.
“Eh-hem.” A throat clearing behind us makes me jump back, but by Malcolm’s smug smile, he was well aware of Kasen appearing in the open doorway, dripping paint on the front step as he pulls off his shirt, wadding it up into a ball and tossing it in the yard. “Hate to interrupt, but watching paint dry isn’t as boring as they claim in this scenario.”
Grimacing, I jog inside. “Sorry.” Without even an attempt at subtlety, I rub myself against him as I shuffle past into the house.
He narrows his eyes on my face, but being coated in paint lessens the intimidation he was going for. “You did that on purpose.”
Grinning, I walk backwards towards the kitchen. “One hundred percent. You can’t be mad at me for getting distracted if you are too.”
As he shakes his head, sighing with a smile, I turn and set the rags on the counter, filling up the bucket with soapy water. Tossing three into the bucket, I return to the hallway. The guys already rinsed off their faces while waiting for me, but even a scalding hot shower isn’t going to get them clean at this point. Kasen sets to work on the walls while Carter and I tackle the floor. My jeans stick to my legs from the cloudy water, leaving a starchy layer behind on my skin that’s got me longing for the penthouse simply for the sake of the bathtub. I’m grateful this place is far enough along that it has running water and electricity, but there’s no way in hell two of us are squeezing in the tub here when I can’t even stretch out by myself.
The scent of paint and sweat saturate the air, but something cuts through it that has me scrunching up my face, trying to place it. I’m absolute shit at mental shields, so Kasen picks up on my confusion instantly, Malcolm not far behind since I have no reason to block him out right now.
Tossing his rag back in the bucket, Kase swipes an arm over the sweat on his face before flaring his nostrils. Instantly, his eyes darken and his head whips to the front door. “Scarlett,” he warns. “Go upstairs.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, and I remove my earplugs while stretching my senses to their limit. Simultaneously, I take a few silent steps in the direction of the stairs, because I’m not an idiot. If Kasen says to go, there’s a damn good reason. It could simply be that if I’m out of sight, it’ll keep things civil with whoever showed up, but more likely, I’d bet it’s a case of it’s harder for him to concentrate if I’m underfoot and he’s trying to watch me and the intruder.
“Scarlett?” My breath hitches in my lungs, eyes closing as everything crashes down around me with the sound of my brother’s voice, knowing I’m absolutely fucked.
“I didn’t even recognize his scent.”
“You were human the last time you saw him, angel, so it’s no surprise,” Kasen gently tells me, though his voice is strained. “But he’s-”
“-not alone. I know.”
I’m rooted to the spot, resigned for the long overdue confrontation. If he’s here, it’s because he knows exactly where I am. Hiding upstairs won’t diffuse the situation; if anything, it’ll make it worse. If he traveled halfway across the country to find me, he isn’t going to just walk away because a few guys tell him to shove off.
I’d love him for that if it was because he was worried about me and not a matter of him thinking he’s above listening to supernaturals.
“Dane?”
Stepping into view of the front door, what little air is in my lungs turns to lead. My brother, with blonde hair longer than I’m used to, but the same amber eyes I once had, stares back at me. I hold his stormy gaze, not wanting to accept that the gun pressing into his temple is real. While there’s a small bit of fear in his eyes, he conceals it well, his rage burning away everything else. He’s never been partial to supernaturals, but now?
Any small tolerance he may have once held for shifters has been completely burned away in the face of one pressing a gun against his head. There's absolute fury emanating from his amber gaze, and plenty of that spills over in my direction as he holds my stare. It’s a punch to the gut as I face the seething hatred he’s clinging to in order to combat the fear, but I can’t blame him. If it wasn’t for me, he’d never be in this position in the first place.
There are two people flanking him, and things start coming together fast enough that I nearly throw up. One of the faces beside him I don’t recognize, but the starburst mark on his neck gives his designation as a mage away. The other? I don’t know his name, but I recognize his face from around the office. My brother might have come here seeking me out after the news story was leaked, but it’s clear the people trying to punish me got to him first.
“Scarlett-” his words are cut off by a punch to his side by the mage, my brother wincing. When he straightens up, his eyes are made entirely of murderous loathing, and I pause in my tracks, not sure if it’s more directed at the men holding him hostage, or at me.
Kasen places a hand on my shoulder, gently restraining me. The others in the house trickle into the room as I remain rooted to the spot, not sure how the hell to proceed. I simply stare at my brother and the men on either side of him, wondering why things have to be so complicated when I’ve already been through enough.
I’ve paid my pound of flesh, I shouldn’t spend the rest of my life being punished for something that was never my fault to begin with.
“Ms. Drake,” the shifter holding the gun drawls, his dark eyes flitting over me with distaste. “I do believe we have something that belongs to you.”
Malcolm’s hand settles on the small of my back, becoming the pillar of support I desperately need when I’m so wildly out of my element. “It would appear so, Samuel. And I suppose that means you intend to return him... for a price.”
My lips purse, the last bit of the puzzle clicking. You own half of a multibillion dollar corporation now; you’d be a target for people trying to make a quick buck even if the vampire thing wasn’t a factor. No one was after me because they hated what I am, it’s because I was an opening to get to Malcolm. A weakness. And when they couldn’t get to me, they moved onto the next sore spot, searching for anything they could exploit for a payout.
“Two mil sounds fair, don’t you think?” the burly shifter rumbles, using his thumb to cock the hammer back on the gun for good measure.
Malcolm is rigid beside me, but to his credit, his voice doesn’t waver. “It’ll take a few calls, but I’m sure we could work something out.”
He doesn’t ask him to lower the gun, well aware it’d be pointless. Keeping his movements slow, he withdraws his phone from his pocket. Bringing up a contact, he flashes the screen at them to prove he isn’t calling the police before hitting the call button.
“Rebecca, I hope I’m not interrupting anything pressing.” Her reply is muffled, my heartbeat thundering in my ears and making it hard to focus on anything other than the scene playing out around me like a surreal dream. “Yes, in regard to funds allocation. I’ve gone ahead and decided we’ll be investing two million into-” he holds out his hand, to which the mage slaps a paper with an account number on it into his waiting palm “- a new reunification program. The families of the freed vampires will require support as we all adapt, but we can’t keep them in safe houses forever and it’ll save us money in the long run. Mhmm, I have an account number for the transfer as soon as you’re ready.”
Beck chooses that moment to interject, biting a hangnail and acting like this isn’t the first standoff he’s been in, nor will it be the last. “You know the second they get the money they’ll kill us all, anyway. We’ve seen their faces, and hell-” he gestures at the shifter “- I’m sure all of this dude’s personal information is on file at the office.”
“What the heck is he doing?” I mentally hiss.
“What Beck does best; piss people off. They’re outnumbered, we just need an opening.”
“Yes, thank you Rebecca,” Malcolm continues as if there wasn’t an interruption, the men across from us sharing a look over Dane’s head, knowing she’ll have overheard Beck’s comment. “Ignore Beck, you know he gets his kicks making my life difficult at any opportunity.” Rattling off the account number, he finishes with, “I’ll wait for the bank’s call, thank you for your assistance, Rebecca. When I return to the office this afternoon, you can give me your pitch for an increase in department funding.”
I have to give him credit; making sure it’s clear to the men across from us that someone will be waiting for him this afternoon, so if they kill him, they won’t make it too far before the police will be on their tails. And they wouldn’t be aware that Rebecca had already given her pitch the day I met her, and from how smoothly she and Malcolm work together, she’ll disregard Malcolm’s brush off of Beck’s declaration. She doesn’t know where we are, but I’m sure she could pull some strings to track Malcolm’s cell phone.
It’s just a matter of holding out long enough for help to arrive.
Swallowing, I latch onto my connection to Malcolm to regain a semblance of rationality. Panicking won’t do any of us any good, and honestly, Beck’s right. The second they get the money, they’ll kill us all to cover their tracks... or they’d try.
Fighting the urge to scrunch up my face, I scan their faces, but there isn’t a trace of fear on either of them. They may have an advantage with a hostage, but if they planned to kill us and make a break for it, I can’t see how they could pull it off, short of using my brother until the last possible moment and jumping in a car. But the minute he shoots, any of the men beside and behind me will be on him.
They have to have something else planned. Malcolm could simply throw a shield over us right now, but Dane would pay the price. He might hate me right now, but he has a gun to his head because of my mess spilling over to him. I’d hate me too.
As Beck continues to goad the men in front of us, Kasen’s fingers tighten on my shoulder, giving away his intention. The second they get an opening, I’m getting shoved into Malcolm to hide in a protected bubble while they risk getting shot to save my brother because they love me enough that they don’t want to see me lose anything or anyone else.
And I can’t be the reason that any of them are killed.
Hyper-focused on the shifter’s hand, the moment his muscle ticks as he begins to lift the gun to aim at Beck, I give myself permission to trust in the instincts that I’ve fought so hard to suppress, allowing all of the fear of being out of control to bleed away once and for all. Even if I unintentionally hurt the guys, I have faith that while lost in the heat of the moment, I’d never kill them. If anything, the connections to my men make me more of a monster. The instinctual drive to protect your mate threatens to overrule sense, and they’re the only things that have managed to keep me sane. Even a mindless plague, I’m too selfish to give them up.
The only thing more dangerous than a feral vampire is one who consciously decides you’re a threat to the people she loves.
Slipping from Kasen’s hold is easy, the man not anticipating me to rush forward. I make it past the threshold in a blink, using my momentum to my advantage as I wrap a hand around the shifter’s wrist and jump, drawing my knees up to my chest. As the gun fires, rather than hit Beck, the shifter’s arm is forced to the side as my feet slam into Dane’s stomach, shoving him out of the way as the bullet goes through the mage’s rib cage instead.
I fall on top of my brother, not surprised in the slightest when the shimmering outline of a shield appears over the two of us. In my peripherals, I see the gun dropping to the ground and Kasen’s fist driving into the shifter’s jaw. Rolling to the side, I have to stay hunched because of the barrier, awkwardly turning around to get my feet out of my brother’s face.
On my hands and knees, I crawl forward to check on Dane. “Are you okay?”
He’s rubbing at his chest with a scowl. “I think you cracked my sternum, fucking hell.”
“Better than shot,” I fire back. “Here, let me-”
He smacks my hand away with a scowl. “Don’t fucking touch me! I came out here to find you, to save you from that prick that was keeping you locked away, only to find out you’re happy to suck some mage dick if it comes with a payout?” He tries to shove me away from him, but there’s only so much room under the shield. “That while I’ve been thinking you were dead, you were too busy fucking anyone that gave you the time of day to pick up a goddamn phone?”
His words are a slap to the face. “Yeah, because you were going to react so well to the news,” I snap. “I thought it’d be nicer to let you move on since you thought I died in that alley.”
“You should have.” His words seem to echo within the confines of the dome we’re trapped beneath and when he leans in to get in my face, I can’t bring myself to back away; there isn’t anywhere I can even go to escape him. “You aren’t Scarlett. You’re an abomination that shouldn’t exist.” Something presses into my chest as I stare at him, searching for any trace of the brother I know and love, but finding only disgust in his amber eyes. And I realize... Dane’s the same person he’s always been, and I just hoped that because it was me, it’d be different.
But the gun pressed above my heart makes his stance perfectly clear.
“Kasen... tell Malcolm to drop the shield.”
“He's fine, he can hold it and still fi-”
“Dane’s in on it. He brought them here.”
It's clear the moment he catches sight of the gun, a low growling resonating inside of my skull as the shield falls away. Dane’s fingers dig into my bicep as he hauls us both to his feet. I’m fairly certain that I could break free without catching a bullet to the heart if I could shut my racing mind down again, but I’m internally screaming too loud to confidently attempt it. In fury, at the injustice of it all, and the awareness as the shield drops how many more people surround us than before.
Sensing the direction of my thoughts, Kasen explains, “The mage. Blocked the scents and sounds behind shields so we didn’t know they were surrounding the house until he dropped them when he was shot.”
“The money,” Dane demands, not taking his hate-filled eyes off of me, pressing the barrel of the gun harder into my skin. “Make it happen; you owe me.”
Hatred and betrayal burn in my chest until I’m vibrating with fury. “Owe you? For what!?”
“Scar, baby, don’t push him too hard,” Kasen warns, though he’s clearly struggling not to launch himself at Dane. “He’s more likely to shoot than walk away from this.”
Dane’s lip curls in distaste. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through? The embarrassment I have to deal with now that word’s spreading that I’m related to a feral fucking rat? If you’re willing to whore yourself out to the monsters for some quick cash, the least you can do is pass some my way so I can start over and deny any connection to you.”
My anger surges, curling my hand into a fist and until my nails puncture my palm to restrain myself. As the men he showed up realize they have the upper hand again, my men and the triplets afraid to do anything to set Dane off and pull the trigger, they retreat to flank Dane and I grit my teeth.
“You’re seriously going to stand here surrounded by mages and shifters and not see that you’re a fucking hypocrite?”
He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment, and I turn to the closest shifter. “You do realize that he's just going to stab you all in the back the second he gets an opportunity. If he would sacrifice his own sister for turning into a supe, you really think you’re any better off?”
