Rise to Submit [Rise of the Changelings, Book 4] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) (11 page)

“But you’re talking about gods versus a sadistic vampire,” Rick pointed out.

“Why can’t it be true?” Omar asked. “We don’t know too much about vampires. Kraven has the
Mãos da Morte
. They shouldn’t exist or have the powers that they possess, but they do. We ourselves can shift into animals, defying the very laws of nature. Who’s to say that vampires can’t invade our dreams?”

“Because then we are
fucked
,” Rick stated. “If one of the vampires is attacking Ian in his sleep, what do you want to bet it is for information on us? Why else would they bother with him? He was just a fang junkie to them. I think Kraven has found a way to use Ian against us. A mole.”

“He can’t stay awake forever,” Sasha interjected. “Sooner or later he will fall asleep. How will he defend himself then?”

Mason felt helpless and enraged at the same time. If a vampire showed himself, Mason could fight him, but how in the
hell
was he to protect Ian while he slept? How could he protect Ian from his own dreams? He knew that telling the guy to believe it wasn’t real when he fell asleep would do no good. The first perception of pain would break Ian down, making Mason’s words forgotten in a sea of lashes.

“I don’t think we should let on to Ian that we know. Any knowledge he has in his conscious mind would manifest in his dreams. We don’t want whoever is using him to know that we are on to him,” Rick said.

“Feed him false information,” Sasha suggested. “Maybe that will spare his beatings and prove Omar’s theory.”

“And if we find out Omar is right?” Mason asked, keeping the raw anger from his voice. “Then what? If we go after whoever it is, then Kraven will only send his
Mãos da Morte
after us. How do we win against him, against them?”

“We can’t just leave him defenseless,” Omar stated. “We need to teach him how to fight back.”

Mason stared slack-jawed at the small werewolf. “Have you seen him? He’s as thin as a twig and…” Mason trailed off. He was about to say as submissive as they came, but for some reason, that bit of information seemed private to Mason. It was a fact that he didn’t want the others to have knowledge of.

It was a bizarre thought, but true. They could probably surmise Ian’s nature by what he had been through, was still going through, but to voice it felt like Mason was betraying Ian.

What an odd fucking thought
.

“We can’t fight this war, stay one step ahead of Breed Hunters, changeling mercenaries, and fight off the vampires when they visit one of our men in his sleep.” Rick gritted his words out. “We need help with Ian. We need to find someone who knows about dream walking.”

Mason clenched his jaw. It didn’t sit well with him that he couldn’t defend Ian. He chalked up his need to keep Ian safe to the fact that Rick had given him the task.

But on a much deeper level, his jaguar knew the truth. It was very interested in Ian. Mason just wasn’t sure if that interest was in guarding the weak man, or eating him.

“Send out word on the wire,” Rick said. “I want to know if anyone knows anything about dream walkers. We have to find a way to get Ian out of this. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t want to betray us, but if given the choice between handing us over and being beaten to a bloody pulp, Ian is going to try and take the less painful route.”

“I’ll get word out,” Omar said as he walked back toward the door.

“Get back upstairs with him,” Rick said to Mason as he ran his hand over the back of his neck looking weary. “I want you to guard him twenty-four seven. I know he can’t stay awake forever, but feed him false intel. That should buy him some time.”

Mason was through the door and heading up the steps in seconds flat. He prayed Omar found someone to help Ian. The man couldn’t take another beating. He looked like shit now and exhausted as hell. The need to pull the smaller man into his arms was overwhelming, but two reasons kept him from bursting into the room and doing just that.

One, Mason knew Ian was already in pain. Pulling the guy into his arms just might hurt him and could possibly reopen his wounds again.

Two, Mason was scared shitless of the way he was feeling. It wasn’t just a strong attraction to another person, but almost an obsession to be near the man, to control him, to dominate him. It was also the fact that Ian had been through hell for four years and was forced into a submissive role by the vampires.

Mason knew the human had to be forced. When Bryson woke him, Ian didn’t look like he was in heaven, but hell from the pain. It looked like the very act of breathing was a struggle. He had a feeling Ian endured whatever the vampires did to him in order to get his fix and not because he liked to get beaten as Dorian assumed.

Mason was more determined than ever to make sure Ian stayed clean. Entering the room, he saw Bryson smoothing the thick white cream over Ian’s back. Ian lay there with his eyes wide open. He could scent the man’s fear, and his struggles. The pain meds must be making him tired as hell.

“How is he?” Mason asked Bryson as he grabbed the wooden chair and took a seat, smiling at Ian. The human looked confusedly at Mason, as if Mason had no reason to smile at him.

“Better,” Bryson replied as he closed the lid on the cream and set it aside. He wiped his hand on the cloth lying next to Ian’s body. Mason was grateful that the bloody rags had been taken from the room and the sheets had been changed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the scent of Ian’s blood. He was too susceptible, and not just because he was a jaguar. Ian called to him on a level Mason didn’t want to examine too closely.

“If he can catch a break from having his wounds reopened, they should be completely healed within a few weeks.”

Mason prayed they could stop the vampire from reopening them. Ian didn’t look like he could lose much more blood. His skin was pale, paper-white, and his skin was hanging loosely from his frame. It looked as though the vampires had starved the man. “Can you see if someone can bring Ian something to eat?”

Bryson gave a quick nod. “I was thinking the same thing. I’ll make sure it’s packed with proteins and carbohydrates.”

Yeah, because Ian needed some thick, calorie-filled foods as well as nutrition. It was going to have to be a balance of both. The man needed weight desperately, but they didn’t need to clog his arteries with a heavy dose of fat.

Once they were alone, Ian’s light-blue eyes raked over Mason in curiosity. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Mason countered as he settled back into the chair.

“I haven’t been the nicest guy to you.”

“True,” Mason replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “But I’m not that easily put off.” Which was a lie, but Mason knew Ian was different. He wasn’t purposefully trying to be a shit. It was a combination of the addiction and what the man had lived through for years. “Are you expecting me to be mean and cruel because you have overwhelming odds against you?”

Ian’s blue eyes dulled as he stared at Mason, resembling a lightbulb that had been clicked off. “I’m a junkie, Mason. Nothing spectacular. Nothing special. Just a junkie. What does it say about me when even a sadistic vampire doesn’t want me anymore?” The words were a soft conviction, one spoken with a dry, airless, defeated resignation. It made the man’s scent smell like the salt tears were made of.

Mason, and his beast, growled at the way Ian was insulting his own character. The man had absolutely no self-esteem and no self-worth. After meeting Dorian and Ian’s parents, Mason was baffled at the way Ian viewed himself. They were strong fighters, whereas Ian was giving up. But Mason wasn’t going to allow Ian to throw in the towel so easily. “And before you became an addict, how would you have described yourself?”

The truth shone in Ian’s eyes as he looked at Mason. His gaze was as lifeless as his tone. “Starving, aching, and woefully alone.”

“Can you explain a little more in detail?” Mason asked, leaning casually back in the chair, one arm tossed over the back, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The man looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if nothing bothered him.

Ian knew Mason wouldn’t understand the confusion he had lived in for so many years, more years than he had been around the vampires. “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and I’m constantly fighting to get somewhere.” It was the best way Ian could think of to describe what he had always felt inside. Even in his younger years when raging hormones were rampaging through him and he was just as confused about noticing boys instead of girls, Ian knew he was different.

He hadn’t noticed the guys who were equal to him in stature and character, but the ones who were dominating, knew what they wanted, and commanded everyone else around. Ian was drawn to their strength, something he lacked, but wanted desperately to be a part of. His teenage years had been extremely confusing, and it hadn’t gotten any better when he became an adult.

By then, Calico had fucked with Ian’s head so badly that he wasn’t sure what he wanted any longer.

But staring at Mason, seeing the inherent strength even in the man’s relaxed posture brought those younger years of yearning back to Ian with a vengeance. “Will you be my Master?” The words were out before Ian could stop or censure them.

Mason noticeably stiffened, his relaxed posture growing as rigid as steel as he continued to stare at Ian. It was the first time someone who wasn’t a vampire studied Ian with such deep concentration. He knew he made a mistake. He was a worthless junkie. Who would want someone like him? Ian was broken, someone to be pitied or sneered at for being with vampires, but not someone a decent person would take on.

“No,” Mason finally answered. Ian’s heart sank. He lay there with nothing. As twisted as the thought was, he almost wished he was still with Newman. He hated every second he was around the undead man, but something was better than nothing.

And now Ian had nothing. He had no one to show him the clear lines between who ruled, and who followed, no matter how torturous the lesson was. Newman didn’t give Ian choices. He followed the vampire’s instructions to the letter, leaving no room for doubt.

But lying here, watching Mason’s blue eyes study him as if he were a freak, made Ian want to run and hide. He felt exposed, more naked than just merely being without clothes.

“I’m not going to replace whoever you were with.” Mason sat forward, his eyes narrowing on Ian. “What I am, what I want, and what you need is polar opposite of what you have lived.”

Ian was confused. “If you don’t want to be my Master, then what are you to me?”

The man’s eyes gentled, and a smile played at his lips, making Mason appear so stunning that Ian had to lower his eyes. What he was feeling confused him. Mason was just his babysitter. Nothing more. He wasn’t interested in Ian, yet Ian was feeling something strange stirring inside of him.

It was almost a warm feeling, something Ian had never felt for anyone outside his family, but vastly different even from that. The tingling was barely there, but Ian could feel it in the depth of his stomach, like tiny butterfly wings skimming him with a featherlight touch.

“A friend,” Mason replied, “and then a best friend—eventually, a partner who will always show you the correct road to walk on.” Mason reached out and slid his fingers into Ian’s, making the butterfly wings flap harder. “I’ll always have your back and I’ll always protect you.”

Ian stared at Mason’s hand in his. It was so much larger than his own, and he could feel the strength just under the skin, the harnessed power this man possessed. He wasn’t sure if he was attracted to Mason because of who he was, or because the man exuded power and strength, something Ian had always been attracted to.

“What if I don’t know how to be friends?”

“Then I’ll show you.”

“And if I fail you?” Ian swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure if he could trust Mason. In the beginning, Ian had trusted Calico. The vampire had quickly shown him that trust was so fragile that it was easily broken.

What if he broke Mason’s? He wanted to trust Mason with what Newman was doing to him, but Ian was scared, so damn scared to reach out to anyone for help.

“Then we start over until you learn to trust me.” Mason slid his hand from Ian’s. “No one said this would be easy, but if you are willing to try, then so am I.”

“I’ve never had a friend, let alone a best friend,” Ian admitted.

“Neither have I.” Mason shocked Ian with his confession. “But I truly believe friends are there when you are not only strong, but when you hit rock bottom. They love you even when you are at your worst.”

The door opened, and Freedman walked in with a tray in his hand. Ian scooted further away from Mason. He wasn’t sure what to make of what the man had just said to him.
Love you at your worst.
If only Ian could believe that. His own brother didn’t want anything to do with him. Why would a stranger stick his neck out for Ian or help him find his way?

They were pretty words, but Ian knew better than to trust anyone. As much as he wanted to believe the guy, Ian knew that it would never happen. He wouldn’t let his guard down long enough to let anyone in.

“I’ll just leave this over here.” Freedman set the tray down and then left the two alone.