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Pressure builds behind my eyes and nose as the confining net of victimhood descends again. Hot tears sting my eyes.
“Hey.” Garrett grasps my nape but I shake him off. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to go back to school,” I choke. I only have one quarter left. It would be stupid not to finish, but the idea of returning to the silly farce I’d been living, pretending to fit in with humans, makes me physically ill.
I texted my human friends this morning to let them know that I’m okay, and that I had a harrowing experience with some Mexican drug lords, but that I need some time to recover. Away from Tucson. It’s not true, but I don’t want them showing up at my door with sympathy on their faces, making me out to be the victim.
“Okay. You don’t have to.”
Our parents might have something different to say about that decision, but Garrett holds my gaze, brows lifted with finality. I see a promise in his eyes. Somehow, he dealt with our dad up on the mountain. Made him listen and not fight. I don’t know how he did that, because our dad’s the world’s biggest alpha-hole. But Garrett’s bigger now. Younger. The days of my dad kicking his ass are over. Maybe the power has shifted. I was surprised he accepted Garrett’s choice of mate without ripping into him.
“What do you want to do, sis?”
“Backpack across Europe,” I blurt.
Garrett blinks at me. I bite my lips. What was I thinking? I can practically see him trying not to say “no fucking way.” I mean, he barely let me go to San Carlos for spring break and look how that turned out for me. The idea of them letting me tool around Europe on my own is laughable. And, yeah, even though I’m twenty-one years old, I’m still looking to my folks and Garrett to “let” me do things. Of course, they do support me-I live in one of the apartment buildings Garrett owns, and my parents pay all my other expenses.
Only you can live your life. You should be free to make your choices. The best advice I ever got, delivered to me in a dungeon by a man more imprisoned by tradition and pack history than I’ll ever be.
Promise me.
Garrett arrives at his decision. “That’s not going to happen.”
Shocker. I turn my head to the window to end the conversation. I might not be locked in a cell anymore, but I’m still an overprotected pack princess. I’ll never be free.
~.~
Council Elder
“How did the Americans find us?” I ask the four wrinkled faces of my fellow council members gathered in the meeting room. The trail should have been untraceable.
Don Jose snips the end of an eight hundred dollar Cohiba cigar and lights it. It’s Cuban, from a limited edition box produced in 2007. I know, because I’m the one who bought it at auction last year for council meetings. Jose slides the box to the man at his left. “Through the traffickers. Or the Harvester.”
Not the Harvester. Probably the traffickers.
“I’ll go down to el D. F.”-what Mexicans call Mexico City-“to pay them a visit.” I don’t mention that I’ve already tried calling them in Mexico City. Relentlessly. The Americans stopped there first, I fear. So either someone sold us out, or they’re all dead.
If it’s the former, they’d all be dead by the time I finish with them. But I’ll give them to Carlos, to appease his thirst for vengeance. Hell, I’ll take him there myself and watch him do it. It will be good for my research to watch him in action. I haven’t seen the alpha fight yet.
“What about the boy? He didn’t fight to keep her.” Don Mateo takes his turn with the cigar box, holding one up to his nose and inhaling deeply. “Do you think he’s not truly bonded?”
It’s indicative of how little power Carlos has here that we call him the boy rather than the alpha. But we need to be careful. He’s angry with us now, which may cause unforeseen ripples. I would have preferred a much simpler plan with in vitro fertilization procedures.
“I think Carlos may be more valiant than selfish.” I pace the room. “He may have wanted to spare our pack’s blood.”
“Or his own,” Don Mauricio says drily.
“No. He’s not a coward. The boy is intelligent.” He is my great-nephew after all. “His American business college taught him to strategize. He made the best decision he knew how to protect both the girl and the pack. Don’t think he won’t go after her when the dust settles.”Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.
“Do you know which servant set her free? Juanito?” Don Jose asks.
“Yes, but leave it. Carlos will protect him from punishment and we don’t want to anger the alpha any more. If the only pack member in his corner is a nine-year-old boy and a crazy mother, we could do worse.”
The men around the table chuckle with me.
“I’ll take Carlos to the traffickers. Let him win this round. He’s had his say and his way. He’ll go after the female and bring her back, hopefully pregnant with his young.”
“How can you be sure?”
I lift my shoulders. “He’s an alpha male at the peak of virility. His wolf will demand he be near her.”
“And if he chooses to stay away?” Don Mateo asks.
I smile. “All the better. We only need his young.”
And I would love to keep his body for experimentation.
Carlos
I sit in my mother’s bedroom and watch her move around the breakfast food on the tray in front of her. Her eyes are glassy, face pale. It’s been three interminable days since Sedona left. Three days, one hour and forty-three minutes, to be exact.
Maria Jose, Juanito’s mother, pours me a fresh cup of coffee, milky and smooth. I love the coffee grown here on our mountain. I’ve been drinking it since I was a pup. It’s mild enough I can drink it all day long.
“When is your father coming in?” my mother asks me.
My chest tightens, as it always does when she forgets he’s dead.
“He’s gone, Mama. It’s just me now.”
I see a flicker of terror in her eyes before it fades and she bends her head to her buttered bread.
“I… found a female, Mama.” I surprise myself. I didn’t expect to talk about Sedona, but she’s occupying every part of my mind. My mother doesn’t understand what I’m saying half the time, but she does now.
She lifts her head and stares at me.
“She’s American. Her name is Sedona. Very beautiful.” Beautiful doesn’t do her justice. Exquisite. Mind-blowing. A perfect ten. She’s magical.
My mother stands up as if Sedona is here and I jump to my feet and put a hand on her shoulder, gently pressing her back into her chair. “She’s not here now, Mama.” I sit again and pick up my coffee cup, staring into it as I swirl the contents. “I don’t know if she’ll come back, actually.” There. I admitted it. The dreadful truth I don’t want to even look at. “She didn’t want to be mated.”
To my horror, tears spring into my mother’s eyes and her lips begin to tremble. “I didn’t want to, either,” she says.
Oh fates. Why did I open this can of worms?
“I know, Mama. That’s why I would never ask her to stay if she doesn’t want to be here.”
Tears fall freely from my mother’s chocolate brown eyes onto the breakfast tray. “Why can’t I go home?” she wails.
“Mama.” I reach across the little table and cover her hand with mine. “Because we can take better care of you here. And I need you-your son,” I say, in case she’s forgotten who I am. “Carlos needs you.”
She breaks into a sob. Fuck. I shove my chair back and walk around to put my arm across her shoulders. “Carlitos.” She moans my name like a lament. “My only son.”
My mother had five other pregnancies, but no others came to term. And I’ve been gone all these years., leaving her alone with a pack she never felt was hers. I’m a terrible son.
I look over at Maria Jose for help and she immediately comes forward. “It’s all right Dona Carmelita. You’re just sad because you haven’t had your pills yet today.” She picks up a little cup of prescription medications from the tray and shakes them so they rattle around. “Take these and you’ll feel better.”
My mother shoves them away, scattering the pills on the floor and Maria Jose drops to her knees to collect them. I help her.
“Does she usually take them willingly?”
Maria Jose shrugs. “Sometimes. I never know how she will be.”
“What happens when she won’t take them?”
“I hide them in her food if I can. If not, they have shots I can give her, but she hates that.”
I drop the pills I collected back in the cup Maria Jose holds. “Thank you.” I catch her eye and hold it. “You’ve taken care of her for all these years. I am grateful to you.”
“Don Carlos…” Maria Jose glances toward the door, then back to me.
“Yes?”
“What if…” She draws in a breath. The fingers gripping the cup of pills turn white with tension. “What if these aren’t what she needs?”
I stare at her, trying to understand what she’s saying. “You think they’re the wrong meds for her? They do more harm than good?”
She bobs her head. “Maybe there’s a way… you could check?” She darts a glance at the door again.
“I’ll ask Don Santiago,” I say, moving toward the door. Don Santiago, my grandfather’s brother, has a Ph. D. in biochemistry. He’s not exactly a doctor, but he acts as the medical consultant to the pack.
“No!” Maria Jose grabs my arm, the whites of her eyes flash with panic. She immediately releases my arm, no doubt realizing how inappropriate it is for her to grab an alpha. Ducking her head, she tilts the cup of pills back and forth with a shaky hand. “Someone else,” she whispers. “Not from the pack. Take her to the city. To America. Don’t ask Don Santiago.”
My skin prickles with what she’s not saying. It’s my turn to grip her. I grasp both her upper arms and squeeze until she looks up. “Why shouldn’t I ask Don Santiago?” There’s menace in my voice. I don’t mean it toward her, but my aggression comes out at the suggestion that the wolf treating my mother might not be trustworthy.
Poor Maria Jose twists in my grasp. “Please, senor. It’s nothing. Forget what I said. I beg you.”
“No, Maria Jose. Tell me. You think I should ask someone besides Don Santiago. Why?”
Maria Jose blinks rapidly, still shifting against my grasp on her. I ease my clenched fingers, fearing I bruised her. “I am stupid,” she mutters, but it sounds more to herself than to me. “I meant nothing by it. Do not consider the words of an idiot servant.” She yanks again against my grasp and this time I let her go.