Guardians of the Portals (44 page)

"Better." He sounded surprised. "Guess the stasis kicked in. I can't always control it."

"Uh-huh. We're almost there. We have to make a quick stop first."

"So, what were you going to tell me?"

Ignoring the question, he pulled into a driveway leading to a single story bungalow with a wraparound porch. Despite being in good repair, the place had an abandoned look. He passed the house and drove onto a rutted dirt lane, following it back to a large barn that clearly hadn't been used in years, perhaps even decades. He stopped in front of the sliding doors.

"I need to open them. Just wait."

"I can get that."

"No, you can't. Not with that shoulder."

Trey started to argue, "It's a lot..." but Jake ignored him and muscled the heavy wooden doors apart with some effort.

"Is it safe?" he asked as Jake slid back onto the driver seat.

"Safe enough."

He carefully drove into the wide aisle and shut down the engine. The interior was dimly lit from the late afternoon sun filtering through the open slats. This was as good a place as any to prepare the man for what was to come. He just wished he could do the courtesy of preparing his girl and her ... whatever he was.

Jake motioned the Falcon over to a pile of old hay bales. He sat heavily and waited while Trey prowled the confines—the man's senses clearly on full alert. Damn, those sons-a-bitches healed fast. He didn't look anything like the incapacitated warrior who'd sat across from him at the diner. His gut told him something wasn't right.

Finally satisfied they were alone, Trey settled on the bale and turned expectantly toward him.

Jake fingered the blade in his pocket and said a small prayer to a God he didn't believe in, mostly wishing he'd been able to grab the Glock just out of reach in the Jeep. Without it, he'd stand no chance against this killing machine, not at his age, so he opted to just spit it out and let the chips fall where they may. He inhaled a deep breath of the chill air and exhaled long and slow as a filmy mist shimmered in the filtered rays.

"She's alive, boy."

Trey tensed, all color leaving his face in a rush, his stocky frame weaving unsteadily as he braced against the unexpected news. With an effort, he regained control, not bothering to hide the hope and anger and a dozen other emotions flitting across his face.

Whatever inner turmoil Trey suffered, Jake couldn't begin to imagine. That he hadn't flown into a rage was promising, so he quietly launched into an explanation of events as he understood them—the aborted rescue from the Hell Dimension, everyone thinking Caitlin dead, including him, Kieran and Gunnarr. He glossed over the bits that Falcon knew—the plan to rescue Kieran and take down Greyfalcon, Eirik's assassination and Kieran's failed mission to take out Knutr. He relayed Caitlin's time with the Althings, how Eirik tried to help her regain control over her shifting abilities, then the attack by the Mafiya and their flight south to regroup and plan next steps. He hastened to emphasize again that he didn't know his daughter was alive until he found her in the cabin.

"And that brings me to the reason you're here now." The Falcon shifted subtly and Jake tensed, preparing himself. "She's bonded."

"I know," he stated, his voice cold and flat, eyes lifeless.

While Jake was not surprised, he had to ask, "How?"

With a pained look, Trey explained what he knew. "It's a physical energy link. Rare. Few in our long history have ever experienced it. It is considered a gift and a curse." Jake nodded and waited as the Falcon collected his thoughts. "Since you seem to know something about it, I won't go into details, given that it's your daughter."

The two men allowed small smiles to twist their lips. Jake picked up the thread, "Seems it's never happened that two of you would fall for the same woman at the same time." He held up a hand to stem the Falcon's interruption. "Yeah, I know that's not exactly it but it's the best I can do to understand it. Whatever it is, it's creating a damn mess with my daughter and I want it to stop."

"She's mine."

"Yeah, I'm hearing that a lot lately."

"She will choose me."

"Are you so sure of that?" Jake tried to gulp back the words but they hung out there like a challenge and a dare.

"She already has."

Trey rolled his shoulder and stood, extending a hand to Jake. He didn't like the look of smug satisfaction on the man's face. What did Falcon know that he didn't, besides the bomb that had been dropped in his lap on the drive up to his safe house? That one had blown all his half-assed plans to hell because it turned out that the one surefire way to heal the bastard was for him to consummate that mystery bond once again. It seemed fucking his daughter's brains out was just the magic elixir to eliminate the drugs and whatever else floated in Falcon's system. And he suspected it wouldn't be a once and done event. He'd already thought about taking Wolf somewhere on a pretense and let nature take its course, but he couldn't be certain of his girl's safety after having his heart-to-heart in the boat. It was what she didn't say that most concerned him.

He had no doubt Caitlin would be torn in two. Neither man was going to back down. He'd just as soon do both of them himself, but he knew in his heart that Caty would never forgive him. He was too selfish to want to leave this world knowing he'd alienated the last thing in the world he cared about. So he was left with having her make the choice—if that was even possible. And he had to stay alive long enough to pick up the pieces because Kieran wasn't going to.

God damn, how had their lives gotten so out of control?

Ignoring Trey's assertion that Caitlin had chosen him over Wolf, he said, "Wait here. There's food and water. I fixed up a cot. I've got things to tend to." He handed the man a small prescription bottle. "I'm told these might help." Trey's features softened imperceptibly as he nodded acceptance. Perhaps he'd been wrong about how fast the man seemed to heal. The look of gratitude was unmistakable.

"Go into that ... whatever you call it."

Trey muttered 'stasis' as Jake grunted, "Yeah, that."

He turned and left, praying he'd done the right thing but fairly sure the shit was going to hit the fan, sooner rather than later.

****

W
olf paced the small porch, anxiety and lack of sleep taking a toll on his nerves, as did the recent communiqué from Tyr. He'd been surprised, at first, to hear from the gothi, given their abortive last meeting on Assateague Island. The man was, if anything, pragmatic. Obviously he'd decided that throwing his support behind Jake and him was the better option for gaining control over the Althing organization.

The crunch of tires on the oyster shell driveway alerted him to Jake's approach. He wasn't sure what the older man was going to think about Tyr's proposal.

Jake exited the Jeep, his steps slow and deliberate, obviously troubled. There was no point in asking what—they already had a list a mile long. He decided to jump in with the news.

"Tyr wants a meet."

Jake looked up, startled. "A meet?"

"Yeah."

"I assume you told him we have a lot on our plates right now?"

"Didn't talk with him directly. Got this text message."

Jake took the message and scanned it quickly, then sat on the step, mindlessly rubbing his chin. He looked up, perplexed. "You got any ideas about this?"

He explained as best he could what Tyr's choices were, how he had to consolidate his position amongst the clan leaders as first among equals given he had no clear right of succession as long as Trey remained a viable candidate.

Jake sputtered, "But he's not..."

"No, he isn't. I am convinced he would never want to run the organization. He simply doesn't have the genetic makeup for that job. But the fact remains that the law's the law and everyone will be sure to pay it lip service before making the final choice. Eirik had muddied the waters by making Trey second-in-command. It chapped Tyr's ass big time but he lived with it. When Trey defected to his father, well ... that green-lit his run at the post."

"So what does he want from us?"

"Other than the asset ... Caitlin? He needs me to control my men and he needs Trey back in the fold to legitimate his position. And he needs you because you know Greyfalcon from the inside out."

"And what do we get in return?"

"Support. Technology. Weapons. Whatever we need. And protection for Caitlin." He looked at Jake intently, hoping that last point was clear. Jake nodded he understood.

"So when...?"

"Unfortunately, now. He's waiting for us in Chestertown, at the fire hall. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah, I know it." Jake put a hand on his arm and stared hard. "Is this the right thing to do, boy?"

"It's the best way to keep her safe, Jake. I don't think we can do it alone. I know you wanted to take both groups down, but..."

"Never mind that now. Like you said, we keep her safe." He stood with an effort. "Where's Caty?"

"I put her in stasis to give her some rest. She'll be out for a while."

"All right then. Let's get this over with."

Wolf quickly scanned the area but felt no threat. He'd booby-trapped the grounds as best he could. Now it was time to marshal his forces and stack the odds in his favor. Whatever it took, he was going to keep her safe.

––––––––

T
rey stretched and rolled off the narrow cot. The shoulder ached but not unbearably. Soft tissue always took time, even when in extended stasis. He pushed the barn door open, surprised that evening had fallen. Catnaps were usually restorative, but he still felt like he hadn't slept in days.

Subtle variations in ambient energy alerted him to Caitlin's presence. When he thought her dead, the link had still remained active, in a steady state that he'd relegated to background, white noise. He assumed this was what happened when mates became separated, by death or other circumstances. There was no rule book for understanding what was happening to him, to them. Now it seemed to be getting clearer, stronger, as if the hum he'd been feeling for weeks had suddenly elevated to a strong vibration. Curious he stepped outside, allowing his senses to home in on the signal.

Still unwilling to acknowledge that the one thing he'd prayed for every minute of every day might be within his grasp, he hesitated. O'Brien had explained that Caitlin might not welcome him with open arms, that in fact she assumed he'd abandoned her in the Hell Dimension. Worse yet, that he had been the cause, even if indirectly, of her mother's death. On the face of it, both allegations were true, but out of his control. He needed for her to listen, to understand that he'd been misled as well. He'd thought her dead, otherwise he would have pursued her to the ends of the earth and through every Portal in existence. Neither heaven nor hell would have kept him from her.

It seemed at every turn he was forced into betraying her trust and causing her nothing but pain. He was tired of the fates thwarting their destiny. Their bond was unbreakable. Surely she would recognize that.

But what if she didn't? What would he do then? There was only one way to find out. Turning left, he broke into a jog toward the cabin.

The sun had long since set, casting the cabin and the surrounding woods deep in shadow. He noted that there were no vehicles and no lights. The only thing he felt was the link, strong now, a comforting ache in his groin and his gut, a hunger he'd never assuage no matter how often he fed it. The memory of that first time, when he'd felt the slam of desire, the white-hot heat and indescribable lust, returned ten-fold.

Easing into the cabin, he maneuvered carefully around the sparse furnishings, listening intently for anything, anyone other than his mate. The interior was laid out on a single level, with kitchen facilities to his left and a small living area making up the bulk of the space. He guessed the two doors to the right and rear led to the bedroom and a bath. He placed an ear against the nearest door, satisfied that he'd found her.

Caitlin lay on a double-bed, clad only in an oversized tee-shirt that rode up her thighs, revealing her narrow hips. Recognizing the signs of stasis, he breathed a sigh of relief, but the demands of his body to claim his mate threatened to over-ride good sense. He'd need to take his time and bring her out of it carefully, but he had no clue where Jake had gone, nor when he might return. Was it worth the risk? He would never know unless he tried. He'd already lost her once.

Slipping out of his tee-shirt and jeans, he lay next to Caitlin and gathered her close, inhaling deeply of her sweet scent, something he never thought he'd ever experience again. Needing to feel her skin against his, he pulled the tee-shirt off as she grunted softly, still blissfully unaware of his presence. He allowed himself a moment to explore the sweet rise of her breasts, smiling when, even unconscious, her nipples responded to his gentle massage. He desperately tried to remember what she liked, but ruefully knew he'd been more concerned with his own pleasure and less with hers. She'd been generous to a fault, and forgiving of his selfishness. He vowed he would change that equation and put her first, as it should have been from the beginning.

Tracing his tongue along her neck, he reveled in the steady pulse. It was time. Drawing on all his resources, he pulled her energy up from her core, watchful that she not surface violently and wreck whatever healing might have occurred during her internment.

Caitlin murmured a throaty sigh, stretching catlike and rolling onto her back. Without conscious thought he eased over her, nudging her thighs apart as he sought to find the moist heat. His mind screamed 'NO' as he probed, watchful for the first sign of resistance. He would not take her by force, never again.

Caitlin's eyes widened, first in confusion, followed by inexplicable understanding. He waited for the words that would gut him, for her to call out Wolf's name, not his. He searched for hard-eyed hate but found only disbelief and ... hope. Her body tensed, then yielded.

"Trey?" She purred his name, throaty and seductive, the single word ringing in his ears and filling his chest with hope. She stuttered, "How..." but let the question trail away, locking her eyes with his, searching for the truth he prayed she'd find.