Soul Avenged (Sons of Wrath, #1) (21 page)

“Ayden, are
you alright?” Calla asked beside her.

“I’m fine.”
Her eyes narrowed toward Kane. “What the fuck do you think you’re
doing, lycan?”

Kane frowned.
“I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything.”

Ayden leaned
forward and drilled her fist into his mouth, splitting a gash in
his lip and so blood spewed across the sheets. Another blow
followed the first before he could retaliate, and another until his
head flopped to the side, his eyes closed, his crimson lips parted
as shallow breaths pushed past.

Ayden wiped
the blood from her knuckles onto her pants. “Come on, Calla. Let’s
go.”

Calla glanced
back at the damaged halfling. She issued a jab to his stomach that
jerked his body, though he didn’t rouse.

“Enough!”
Ayden strode from the room and pounded down the stairs, trusting
the younger female not to disobey.

When they
returned to the dining room, the four demons still sat around the
table. Ayden’s gaze cut across to Gavin, and she frowned at the
grim expression on his face.
What’s going on?

“They’re on
their way in” he said. “I suggest the two of you find somewhere to
hide and stay out of sight.”

“Who?” Ayden
asked. “Who’s on their way in?”

“The
Alexi.”

~

Wade entered
the mansion. The place reminded him of the old
Addams Family
episodes he’d watched as a kid. Not quite the devil-worshipping
necropolis he’d imagined it to be inside.

He surveyed
all the artwork and expensive furnishings as he followed behind the
deformed man who’d answered the door, eyes peeled for the two women
that he was certain were somewhere inside.

Two Alexi
followed at his heels.

They were led
into an impressive office. A large mahogany desk with attached
bookshelves and credenza took up most of the back wall, far more
exorbitant than his own back at the compound. To the left, two men
sat on a black leather couch, watching his every move—the blond he
recognized from the night before, but not the dark-haired one next
to him, who fiddled with a string at the seam of his jeans. Each
one of them was about the size of two men put together.

To Wade’s
right, a brown-haired demon sat in an armchair, his fingers
entwined, chest heaving as he a glared. Another demon stood ahead,
behind the desk, all business in his pinstripe suit and serious
expression. He had Leader written all over him. His head perked up
slow when Wade approached with a hand outstretched.

The man
crossed his arms as though in dismissal of the greeting. “Sit
down.”

Wade scoffed,
pausing a second before he took the only other armchair, next to
the pissed-off looking demon. The attention on him made the hairs
on the back of Wade’s neck stand on end, but with his gambler’s
face on, he smiled.

The demon to
his right snarled.

“Brother,
relax,” said the one behind the desk. “I’m Gavin. These are my
brothers, Logan beside you, Zeke and Calix on the couch.”

“Pleasure.” It
didn’t escape Wade that he could’ve sat caged with a pride of lions
and not been so vulnerable as he suddenly felt.

“How did you
find us?”

Wade smiled at
the question. “You, uh, have something that belongs to me.”

“Oh?” Gavin
tipped his head “And what might that be?”

“Don’t act
stupid.” Impudence briefly got the best of Wade. “You know what I’m
talking about.”

Leaning
forward, knuckles against the desk, Gavin’s eyes drilled into him.
“Did you just call me stupid, little man? Dare I remind you of the
precarious position in which you find yourself?”

The rustling
of metal from behind indicated the demon’s movement had ruffled the
other two Alexi. Not a sound came from the demons as if they
somehow fed off of the tension in the room. Wade raised his hand to
settle them, his tongue raked against his back teeth, and he
cleared his throat though it begged for a sip from the flask tucked
inside his leather coat. “My apologies.”

“Now let’s
just say, for the sake of argument, that I
do
know what
you’re talking about. What makes them your property to claim?”

“They owe me
their lives.”

“And since
I’ve not allowed my brother beside you there”—Gavin gestured toward
Logan—“to unleash his fury and beat the shit out of you, am I not
imparting the same courtesy? Therefore, we are even.”

Wade glanced
over at Logan, whose glowing red eyes were fixated on him. He
swallowed a gulp. “Per … haps,” he said, shifting away from the
demon beside him. “See, I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

“A deal?”
Gavin straightened from the desk. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken my
species for another. I don’t make
deals
. I make contracts.
And punish those who’ve done wrong.”

“Gavin—”

“I’d actually
prefer you call me sir. Rolls off the tongue easier, don’t you
think?”

A sneer came
from behind.
Fucking demons.

Wade narrowed
his eyes. “
Sir
,” he said with some emphasis. “I’m willing to
trade Calla for Ayden.”

“Calla for
Ayden,” Gavin echoed then grinned. “Seems fair. Ayden
does
have her bitchy moments, doesn’t she, brothers?”

“I’ll say.”
The voice came from behind again, followed by a snort.

Wade glanced
in the direction of the blond, who sat picking at his fingernails.
He returned his gaze to Gavin and chuckled. “Sounds like my
girl.”

The humor
disappeared from Gavin’s eyes. “
Your
girl, huh?” He stalked
around to Wade’s side of the desk crossing his arms as he leaned
back. “I’m afraid we have a slight problem. See, Ayden is a client
of mine. And, as such, falls under the protection of my brothers
and me.”

“I’m willing
to buy her out of the contract.”

“Again, you
insult me.” Gavin shook his head. “My clients can’t be
bought
. I do not break contracts.” A flicker of red flashed
in his eyes, forcing Wade to shift in his chair.

“Okay. Then,
I’ll take Calla back.” Wade entwined his fingers, a feeble attempt
at keeping his cool. “I’m afraid this was all just one big
misunderstanding. I imagine she probably misses her brother by
now.”

A grin took up
the width of Gavin’s face. “I’m afraid Calla is now a client of
ours, as well.”

Wade cleared
his throat. “What a … does she seek vengeance for?”

“That’s
between me and my client. But let me warn you, little man. If you
lay one hand on her brother, know the enjoyment I will get out of
hearing you scream in unrelenting pain.” Gavin tilted his head to
the side. “My brothers and I have a gift for keeping our victims
alive and completely conscious.”

Every nerve in
Wade’s body flared like a livewire until his hairs stood on end. He
nodded, lips forming a hard line.

“Now, unless
you’d like a tour of the catacombs here, and I assure you that you
don’t, I suggest you get the fuck off my property.”

Wade sniffed
and stood.

Gavin didn’t
bother to rise from his perch, his form just as intimidating in a
slouched position. “Calix. If you’ll be so kind as to see our guest
out.” He shot his brother a very earnest look.

Wade turned to
leave the room, knocking into Logan’s chest. He hadn’t even heard
him move.

A growl
rumbled in the Logan’s throat.

“Thank you for
your time, gentlemen. Should you, uh … change your mind and want
those pretty ladies off your hands, Ayden knows where to find me.”
Wade gestured to the two Alexi soldiers and hastened out of the
office.

***

Sitting on the
floor of Gavin’s bedroom, Ayden peeked around the almost-closed
door to the landing outside, watching Wade with narrowed eyes.

“Ayden, what
did you see?” Calla whispered from her crouched spot to Ayden’s
left.

Down below in
the hallway, Wade turned back, his gaze wandering up toward the
staircase, before he and the two Alexi were accosted by Calix in
the foyer. Calix spoke so low, Ayden couldn’t make out what his
words.

What is he
discussing with them?

As Calix
stepped aside, the three men were ushered through the door and out
of the house by Bennett.

Ayden let out
a sigh of relief. “What’s that?”

“When the
lycan touched you.” Calla pulled her knees tight to her. “What did
you see?”

“It was
nothing. Just … daydreaming.” She fell away from the door and sat
up against the wall beside it. “They know trickery, did you know
that?”

“No. I mean, I
know they can distract victims, but I didn’t know they were capable
of, like, magic.”

“It’s hardly
magic, Calla,” Ayden said. “They steal memories from their victims
then use them against their enemies.”

Calla looked
as if she was puzzling the words. “But … Ayden, you’re not his
victim. And … he’s not one of them, yet.”

Ayden frowned.
“What are you suggesting, Calla?” She couldn’t quite tether the
suspicion in her tone.

The girl
shrugged. “I’m just saying
I
didn’t see anything. You did.
And it seemed to
affect
you.” She glanced away. “Maybe this
sounds crazy. But did you ever consider that they might be …
your
memories?”

“That’s
impossible. He didn’t kill—” Ayden’s eyes widened. Her heart
stuttered—it could have stopped beating altogether—and a sharp pain
throbbed within her chest. She bowed forward and peeked through the
gap once more, attention fixed on the door across the staircase
that hid the lycan.
Is it possible?
She shook her head at
herself.

“What?” Calla
asked.

“Nothing.” The
need for air struck fierce. Ayden rose from floor and slipped out
of the door, her hand already against her dagger at her hip. “I
have to go,” she muttered.

“Where? Did I
say something wrong, Ayden?”

“No. I just
need to think.”
To breathe.

Ayden raced
down the staircase.

Howling
erupted from the library as she passed, the laughter of the
brothers rising over the swishing sound in her ears.

“I thought he
was going to piss his pants!” Zeke said.

Much as she
was curious to know how the meeting with Wade had gone over, would
have loved to be in on the laughter, something else weighed
heavier—a need to be alone.

Bennett met
her at the front door, as always.

“I’m good Ben,
thanks.”

“Shall I
arrange a ride for you, miss?”

She paused.
What is the plan?
“No. I’m going to take the bike.”

A year ago,
Gavin had purchased a bike for her as a gift. She’d refused it.
Something about accepting gifts from him made her feel an
obligation that she didn’t need or couldn’t afford to carry around.
She’d left it there, only tending to use it on the rare occasions
she didn’t catch a ride with one of the others when leaving the
manor.

Bennett led
her down the long corridor to the lower level garage that housed
the demons’ many vehicles. Most of them belonged to Gavin, an avid
collector and self-proclaimed remodeler. In his spare time, he
enjoyed tinkering on them. Odd, considering his refined mannerisms.
Though, as Ayden had come to know, none of the demons were what
they seemed.

Row upon row
of fancy vehicles lined the extra large lair. Sports cars, SUV’s,
even an odd military-type. A variety of bikes as well.

Ayden
recognized hers amongst the others—sleek black, aerodynamic with
‘Slayer’ airbrushed in flames. She donned the black helmet and
straddled the bike. Bennett opened the door to a dim-lit tunnel,
two car lengths in width that exited out the side of the manor. She
revved the engine and sped up the ramp, toward the iron gate of the
property, making its slow inward arc.

Ayden squealed
around it, hitting the streets with a sharp turn and a bolus of
gas. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as the bike whirred down
the snow-laden streets.

Damn, how
she’d missed riding it.

Gavin had
taught her how when she’d first gotten the machine, sitting behind
her with his hands working more than gears as he gave a quiet
lesson in the garage.

They’d
christened
the bike twice that night.

Darkness had
begun its long stretch toward the horizon. Only a thin line of pink
divided the gray from the black so anxious to devour the sky.

Is it
possible?
Thoughts consumed her.
Are the memories
mine?

If they were,
then that could only mean one thing: The wolf that’d attacked Kane
was the same wolf that’d attacked her.

Impossible.

So many years
her thirst for vengeance had driven her to kill unrestrained. How
could it be that her attacker was, suddenly, a mere memory away
from her? Kane’s.

The city
passed in a blur, reds, grays and blacks a mergence of streaks in
her periphery. She drove in no direction, only reveling in the feel
of the powerful bike between her thighs. Inching her knees closer,
she hugged its exterior and fed it more gas.

When she
finally reached the city limits of Hamtramck, she slowed, though
the cops didn’t patrol as often as they should have. The city
couldn’t afford that. Although, with all the mutilations that kept
cropping up in nearby Detroit, a lone bike speeding down the
streets should’ve drawn some attention, even a chase. Yet, it
didn’t.

Sully’s
was a shady bar in the shitty part of town. It could’ve passed as a
strip club with all its scantily clad women. The owner, Stan
Kucharski, equally shady and ornery, cursed like a crime boss and
spared no reservations in front of females—but he’d slipped Ayden a
free meal from time to time. He also never tried to pry
conversation out of her. A quiet, observant man, he was one step
away from retiring from it all, after forty years in the business.
His father had come over as an immigrant straight out of Poland,
working for the automobile companies when they first opened.