Guardians of the Portals (43 page)

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J
ake looked sideways at his daughter, curious at the play of emotion racing across her face. He had hoped she would settle on the giant warrior who offered her his heart and soul, the man who would die to protect her. But he wasn't sure that the man's love was going to be enough and that troubled him. He needed to understand the stranger sitting next to him, as the woman who had been his precious daughter no longer existed. She'd transformed, but it had nothing to do with her gift—that was just a physical magic trick. There was something else and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He listened carefully as she spoke, the words whipping away in the wind, yet he heard every nuanced sentence, seeing with her mind's eye as she left nothing out. As he pulled into the small pier, he brushed at his eyes and made a silent vow.

Caitlin looked away from her father's strained face and asked with a small voice, "So what happens now?"

Jake cut the engine, the silence deafening in the chill air.

He jumped onto the dock and secured a line to a cleat. Looking at the lost woman staring at him, he murmured, "Armageddon."

––––––––

"Y
ou look like shit, boy." Jake gave Trey a once-over, not pleased with what he was seeing.

Trey shrugged and stared, his face ravaged with pain. He sipped at the cooling coffee and grimaced. Jake had heard the rumors but this was the first time he'd seen it for himself. Whatever the drugs were that still dripped through his system, they had the man's gut coiled into knots and his brow beaded with sweat. Withdrawal was an ugly process, one he'd gone through with his son more than once.

Jake decided he'd better get the conversation on track and the first order of business was what had happened to his son.

He barked, "Where's Kieran?"

"With Knutr. He's safe enough for now."

"Damn."

"It was the best I could do. Gunnarr's working up a plan. I'm to get back to him tomorrow."

"Why the hell are you here and not my son?"

Trey grimaced and said, "Fair question. I don't have all the answers but here's what I know."

Listening carefully as Trey recapped what had happened when he'd tried to infiltrate Leonov's compound, only to be captured and put in holding with Kieran, Jake had a hard time keeping control of his anger and disgust. Speaking with a flat voice, devoid of emotion, Trey gave an unabridged account of their treatment—the beatings, the drugs ... and other things. That Knutr had put a stop to some of the worst perversions did nothing to mask the man's complicity in getting both men hooked on heroin. The result of that sat across from him in an agony of despair.

Jake found it difficult to follow the convoluted tale that Trey spun about Knutr cutting him loose. The former second-in-command of Greyfalcon was offering to play at double agent in return for some unspecified concessions that Trey was unwilling or unable to share. It probably didn't matter in the long run. He wasn't interested in dissecting the man's motivations. Let those sick fucks work out their family issues on their own time. He wanted his son. Whatever it took to make that happen, he was all for it.

"I still want to know ... why you? Seems to me you'd make for a better hostage than Kieran."

Shrugging, he said, "He's not family. I am. When I say Knutr's ready to share information about Leonov's organization, Gunnarr's going to listen."

That didn't mean he'd believe it. Gunnarr didn't get to where he was by being stupid ... or trusting. While Knutr might be ready to bargain, he seriously doubted the wayward cousin was really ready to cross his new handlers by sharing intel with Greyfalcon. That strained everyone's credulity given the man's history.

Sensing he'd gotten as far as he could along that line, he asked again, "Explain to me exactly what Knutr's got in mind."

Trey grunted, "He's playing us, using me."

No shit Sherlock...
Tell him something he didn't know. And it still didn't answer the question.

He pressed Trey, "Does he really think you and Gunnarr and the rest of them are that stupid? What's he really after?"

"It's simple. He wants Greyfalcon, always has." Trey coughed, wincing as his shoulder lifted and settled with the effort. "He plans to start a war between Leonov and Greyfalcon, then stand by and watch them annihilate each other."

Jake huffed, "And conveniently pick up the pieces when the dust settles. What's your father got to say about that?" Jake placed a little more emphasis on 'your father' than he meant to. Trey rarely acknowledged the head of Greyfalcon as anything other than 'Gunnarr'.

"He wasn't exactly in a sharing mood. I suspect he's conferencing with whoever's in charge of the Althings now."

"That'd be Tyr."

Trey raised an eyebrow and stared hard at Jake. "And you know this how?" He didn't look pleased at the news.

"That's not important. All I care about is getting Kieran back." Slapping a fist on the table, he growled, "Dammit, Falcon, why didn't you just bring him back with you?"

Trey lowered his gaze but not so quickly that Jake couldn't see the regret and something else flickering in his eyes. The man's next words surprised him.

"I need to get clean, Jake. It's beyond even my control now. If I can't shake this, I'm not going to be any use to you." He let the 'or anyone else' hang unspoken.

Jake watched the compact man's hands tremble uncontrollably. Soon he'd be in full tremors and no one, not even Gunnarr's people, knew what that would do to one with a heightened metabolism like Falcon's. He hated that he sympathized with this pathetic creature who had allowed his wife to die and turned his daughter into a near stranger. But he needed him.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need to go into stasis. For however long it takes."

"Gimme a clue."

"Days, maybe more. I don't know. We usually don't have problems with dependency."

Jake watched with concern as Trey struggled to mask the embarrassment and worry over his 'condition'. He'd always been a loose cannon at best, but with skills that had served many purposes, if not his own. Jake was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake involving someone so unstable in the operation.

"All right. So what's that involve?"

"I need a place to stay. Someone to keep me hydrated. I might, uh, need..."

"What?" Jake barked.

"Restraints."

Jake rubbed his chin and considered his options. He and Caty and her randy guard-dog were champing at the bit to move on their 'rescue Kieran and take down Greyfalcon' half-assed plan. But without manpower and hardware, they were fucked six ways from Sunday.

"All right. I've got a place. But there's something you need to hear first."

"What?"

"Not here." Jake slid off the vinyl seat and stalked to the door, not bothering to check if Falcon was behind him. He had a feeling this was a bad idea but he had few options left. He needed to gather all the players and get his ducks in a row, otherwise they might as well all scatter in the breeze and simply wait to be picked off one by one. Leonov smelled blood now. Not even Gunnarr and the Althings together were going to be able to stem the tide this time.

He motioned for Trey to get into the Jeep, grimacing in sympathy as the stocky man grunted in pain trying to maneuver into the vehicle. He could see his entire body contracting in agony—and not from the drugs assaulting his system. That shit was probably the only thing keeping him functioning at even a minimal level. Unfortunately, Gunnarr had used up all his chits when his son had nearly lost his leg after his rescue from what they all called the Hell Dimension. There'd be no phalanx of healers and magic juju this time. The kid—and he smiled to himself at that for this creature was centuries old compared to his in earth years—the kid would have to rely on his own resources this time around.

Jake took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how much of their plan to reveal because, if Trey said no, he'd have no choice but to eliminate him. And what that would do to Caitlin he hadn't a clue. Reaching along the side pocket on the door, his fingers brushed the cold steel of the Glock. To his surprise Trey spoke first.

"I have no loyalty to Greyfalcon, Jake. Or to my family, not anymore. Get me clean and I will do what I can to put Kieran into your hands."

"What about Gunnarr? You know he's putting something into place right now."

Trey stared straight ahead, his mouth set in a grim line. "He's going after Knutr. Kieran will be collateral damage."

"Then we're agreed?" Trey nodded and muttered a string of curses as he writhed in agony.

The issue of Caitlin being alive would have to wait. He might have the man on their side for now, but once his daughter got caught up in the mix he knew in his gut that everything could change in a heartbeat. They'd
all
become collateral damage at that point.

Jake pulled onto Route 50 and headed north. The Falcon's labored breathing played counterpoint to the radio station playing soft jazz. He knew he'd have to deal with the situation sooner or later. With Falcon incapacitated, maybe now was the right time. He'd be less likely to kill Wolf right off. Keeping them apart had never been an option. If he could control the meet, keep a lid on the process, then maybe he could direct their testosterone toward solving their mutual problems. And if they all survived that, well he hadn't thought beyond that point knowing that the odds didn't favor him or the ones he cared about.

Without Kieran and his unnatural instincts, they needed Trey. It was that simple. He pondered the tidbits that Gunnarr had shared about this bonding thing. Apparently the Althing researchers had gone into raptures over a genuine mating and were wallowing in Powerpoint heaven, distributing the good news via satellite ComLink.

The cell buzzed against his hip as he swung onto Route 213.

"Yeah, O'Brien here." He listened carefully for a long time, nodding and frowning. Finally he spat, "Oh hell, no," and threw the phone against the dash. Trey stirred but continued dozing.

He muttered
shit shit shit
under his breath. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. He might as well just shoot them all now and be done with it. He slowed to sixty miles per hour, thinking furiously.

****

"W
hat's the matter, babe?"

Caitlin paced the confines of the small bedroom, her hands rubbing her thighs in mindless circles, alternately tightening and loosening the nylon fabric hanging loose on her thin frame.

"I wish I knew."

"Come here and sit. Talk to me."

Caitlin smirked at that. So much of their relationship had been on a non-verbal level that they relied more on body language and other forms of communication. Now this giant of a man seemed determine to turn himself into a Viking Dr. Phil.

"It's the link. There's something wrong and I can't figure it out."

"I know."

That surprised her. She'd assumed his experience of the bond was simply a sexual obsession while she got to enjoy a total hormonal immersion, complete with anxiety attacks and mood swings. The link vibrated with painful, stabbing intensity. He was coming. She was sure of it. That was why her dad had been conferencing madly with Greyfalcon and had left in the wee hours to points unknown.

The Falcon was coming home to roost.

"Babe, I don't know what's happening to us. And we have to talk about it because I can't lose you."

Caitlin reluctantly slid next to Wolf and curled into his arms. She felt safe there and knew it to be a falsehood. Nothing was going to stop the hell descending on them, certainly not the kind and gentle giant wrapping her in a sweet embrace. Wolf had no idea of the cruel pleasure the Falcon would derive from toying with him, for the sheer joy of inflicting pain. He would drag it out, weeks if necessary, and he would make her watch as punishment for abandoning him. He would do it out of love and she would go to him, filled with hate. And desire.

"Please forgive me," she whispered into Wolf's chest.

"For what?"

"For bringing this on you. I wish..."

"Never say that, ever. I love you. And I will do whatever is necessary to keep you."

Her other companion grinned lasciviously as Wolf petted and prodded her secret places, licking and teasing until she groaned and stretched like a satisfied cat.

Shameless hussy, fuck him good m'lady, remember how it feels, for pain follows pleasure and I will feast on the blood and bones.

Choose...

I can't,
she keened.

...wisely.

There is no wisely,
she argued.

There is only hate. And pain.

And love?

Foolish woman,
he snickered
.

Caitlin sighed as the tremors shook her, turning her thighs to jelly as he asked permission with his tongue, exploring, pushing the narrow boundaries, aching to breach her defenses.

Turn this way,
the disembodied voice urged. Rough fingers squeezed and ground into her hip, adjusting her leg and hiking it onto a thickly muscled thigh. Nimble fingers flicked her nipples as a broad chest pressed against her narrow shoulder blades, the fine sandy blonde hairs tickling and soothing as warm lips nipped and suckled the nape of her neck.

Thick fingers penetrated forbidden places until she arched into the heat and revealed her need. He entered on a gasp, whispering her name, her old, Hell Spawn name of pain. Exquisite pain. Pulling her hard against his groin, he ignited deep jagged moans as he spread her impossibly wide and penetrated deeper, filling her with torturous spasms in uncontrolled fury.

Their fingers entwined, pressed against her neck, choking back her cries as they roared in triumphant unison
... you are mine, mine, mine.

****

"S
orry." Trey yawned and stretched as best he could.

"How are you feeling?" Jake turned left at a fork and angled slightly south and west. They were almost home and he still hadn't come up with a plan. He glanced at Trey. The man rubbed at his left shoulder, rolling it with some discomfort but clearly not in as much pain as before.