Tempestuous Miracles (9 page)

Frey took hold of Mirian's shoulders and squeezed slightly. "We don't have an explanation for this right now, but please, I'd like you to have Julian look at your suppressors. Do you think you can do that?"

For the longest time, Mirian scanned his face. Frey didn't know what Mirian was thinking, but he suspected he wouldn't like the result.

Confirming his worst fears, Mirian pulled away. He was still very pale, and he looked defeated. "You're right. Miracle Labs makes my medication. I'll talk to Julian, but not right now. I'm just... I need to go. I need to think."

Without another word, Mirian fled the office, leaving Frey alone, cursing his luck and wishing he knew how to comfort his mate.

Chapter Seven

Mirian remembered well the first time he'd started taking suppressors. His heat had come out of nowhere, and it had scared him, filled him with a need he hadn't been able to deal with. It hadn't necessarily been unexpected—in truth, he'd have been more surprised if he hadn't turned out to be a Bearer—but that hadn't made it any less scary.

Ariel and Gonzalo had been there for him, keeping him hydrated, soothing his dark dreams. Eventually, Gonzalo had put him on suppressors, and Mirian had been so relieved that he hadn't given too much thought to where they had come from.

Later, he'd grown accustomed to the label, to the point that he had an almost Pavlovian response to the sight of the Miracle Labs logo.

To think that his relief might have all been a lie was heart-breaking. But it was just as heart-breaking to consider the implications of an elaborate deception on Julian and Roman's part.

The real issue was this. If there was something suspicious in the suppressors, Mirian would no longer be able to take them. This meant that his heat would soon strike, and he would be forced to mate Frey, whether he wanted to or not.

While the thought was far from unappealing, Mirian still had a lot to think about before he jumped into a long-term relationship with a werewolf. In his heart, he knew that, like Julian, he would eventually agree. But being pushed into it... It felt hurtful, like it cheapened the link that already existed between him and Frey.

On the other hand, Mirian could simply take a different brand of suppressors and that would be that. Considering this aspect, Julian and Roman might truly have nothing to gain from lying to him. But that still left the question—had Roman been right? Was there something in his medication that could be potentially dangerous?

He didn't want to doubt his mate and his new unexpected friend, but he couldn't help it. He was torn between the family he'd known all his life, and the man he was quickly growing to love.

He hated it, hated it with a passion. Was it too much to ask for a little peace, for a life free of doubt and fear?

Unfortunately, as much as he'd have liked to push aside the tormenting thoughts, he could not do it. They were already there, festering in his mind, nudging him like needles. He was so impossibly torn, because his heart wanted to throw all caution to the wind and just trust, but his reason pointed out he couldn't refuse to face the facts.

Under the circumstances, Mirian realized there was only one thing he could do. He didn't know Julian and Roman well enough to figure out if they were lying. He might not see any reasons for a possible deception, but that didn't mean they weren't there. He believed Frey was being honest, but that only meant Frey was telling the truth as he knew it. At the same time, Mirian had liked Julian a great deal, but it was not enough to clarify the situation. This left him with a single course of action—he had to go see his father.

Everyone had traveled to Florenza when Mirian had decided to come meet the Montblancs. They were staying in a hotel in order to give Mirian space to understand how all of this worked, without having to worry about his human family.

It was very, very easy. The Montblanc mansion was surrounded by guards, but they were supposed to stop people from going in, not coming out. Mirian simply put on a look of relaxed determination, like he knew exactly where he had to go and needed to be somewhere. It was only half a lie—he was determined, but nowhere near as calm as he wanted to look.

Fortunately, his mate had insisted on him carrying money around. At the time, Mirian hadn't really deemed it necessary, since he hadn't intended to go anywhere without Frey. Still, he had agreed, appreciating the fact that Frey was encouraging and respecting his independence, insofar as their circumstances allowed it, at least.

Of course, his mate couldn't have possibly known what Mirian would do with said money, because if he had, he would have likely had second thoughts.

Frey had explained that the city had a sector reserved solely for pure-blooded human use, and it was in this area that their hotel was located. It was a good distance away from the Montblanc mansion, but Mirian managed to find a taxi and pretend he knew exactly what he wanted and was talking about.

The driver wasn't really paying attention to him, so if he noticed there was anything different about Mirian, he kept it to himself. Once they arrived at the hotel, Mirian paid the fare and slid into the building.

Since he'd been here earlier, the people at the front desk recognized him, although they did eye him with some confusion. They undoubtedly realized he was a Bearer and wondered what he was doing walking around on his own. Technically speaking, it wasn't illegal, just very unusual and unlikely to happen.

Mirian didn't wait for the questions to come. He took the elevator to the second floor, where his family's rooms were located.

The corridor was empty of people—with one notable exception that made Mirian scowl. There was a large man in front of the door of the room assigned to Mirian's father. Mirian might have made a lot of rash choices in the past couple of days, but he had no intention of going to face said guard.

In truth, just the sight of the man gave him an answer to the question he'd come here to ask—if only because of the Miracle Labs logo adorning the lapel of the guard's suit jacket. But Mirian could not leave. He needed to find out who was in that room and what they were discussing.

As it turned out, he was in luck. The corridor opened into a small terrace, and Mirian quickly made his way there when the guard wasn't looking. Once outside, he eyed the distance between the terrace and the room balconies. For a normal human, it would have been risky, but Mirian was a Bearer. He could manage it.

Mirian took position on the far side of the terrace and then ran, gathering momentum for the jump. He had a flash of panic when he actually made the leap—
oh, my God, what am I doing, I'm going to break my neck, somebody is going to see, oh, my God
—but in the end, he landed safely and silently on the other side.

He flattened himself against the wall, catching his breath and instantly focusing on the conversation he could now hear from the room.

The first voice that reached his ears was one that often appeared in Mirian's nightmares. It belonged to Duke Lamine, his grandfather. "This was not what I had in mind, Proctor. I told you to keep the boy under control, not hand him over to the first wandering werewolf. Do you have any idea what kind of disaster this could spell for the company if it gets out?"

"And what would you have me do?" came the vitriolic reply, this time from Mirian's father. "I have been trying my best, but there is only so much any of our excuses can accomplish. Besides, I draw the line at anything that would hurt Mirian."

"Mirian is a Lamine," Mirian's grandfather answered. "He has a duty, as do you. This is not a game, Proctor. Do you even understand what kind of strings I have to pull to keep him from being targeted?"

"Are you kidding me? No one even remembers he exists!"

"You would be surprised."

Before Mirian's grandfather could elaborate, Gonzalo intervened, speaking for the first time. Mirian hadn't even realized his doctor was in the room, but he supposed it made sense.

"If I may, Mr. Lamine," Gonzalo said, "it's not entirely up to us. We cannot force Mirian to decide against going along with this werewolf thing. The shifters have too much power."

"Mirian's would-be mate isn't actually supported by his pack," Mirian's father added. "Back on the island, I had hoped that this would be an obstacle, but I'm now told he has the backing of the Montblancs, so we can't do anything about it."

"Very well," Mirian's grandfather snapped. "It looks like we'll have to do this the hard way."

"Father, no! You promised."

"And I kept my word, as long as you did. Not to worry, son. All we have to do is take your child off the suppressors and he'll imprint on anyone we want him to."

"Wait..." Mirian's father repeated weakly. "Imprint?"

Mirian's grandfather laughed. "Come now, Proctor. You didn't think those experimental suppressors were for nothing, did you? Don't embarrass yourself. Did you really think I was giving you space just because of your idiotic little threats?"

In spite of himself, Mirian couldn't help but let out a small, dismayed gasp. That in itself would have probably not given him away, but he also took a step back, as if trying to hide from the horrible truths he'd just heard.

Unfortunately, in the process, he ran into a large decorative vase situated in the corner of the balcony. Under Mirian's horrified eyes, the ornament tilted and came crashing down to the floor.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt. "What was that?" Mirian's grandfather asked. And then, the doors to the balcony were opening, and Mirian was just standing there, staring at the man who had been his proverbial boogie man for over a decade.

His grandfather blinked. "Oh. This is a surprise. Proctor, we have an unexpected guest."

Mirian's father emerged from inside, his eyes widening. "Mirian? What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with the Montblancs."

The comment finally snapped Mirian out of his trance. "Clearly," he replied, proud when his voice didn't shake. "Otherwise, you would have met elsewhere with the man you were supposedly protecting me from."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Mirian's grandfather rolled his eyes. "It's a simple matter of business and practicality. No one is betraying anyone. And in all fairness, he tried to keep you from me, but there was only so much he could do, you realize."

Yes, Mirian understood that, but it didn't change the fact that his father had deliberately deceived him, lied to him to keep him on the island when their refuge had already been compromised. Further, he'd endangered Mirian by entrusting the same man they were running from with Mirian's medication. Mirian couldn't fathom how his father could have possibly thought that was a good idea, but he had no intention of waiting here to debate the matter. He simply turned and jumped back toward the terrace.

It was a little harder because he didn't have quite enough momentum, but he still managed to grab the ledge of the terrace and pull himself up. Behind him, he heard his father cry out his name, but he didn't look back. His vision was blurry with tears and he wiped his eyes even as he stumbled into the corridor.

Unfortunately, this time around he hadn't been fast enough, because the guard intercepted him before he could make his escape. "Oh, no you don't, little Bearer."

He was eying Mirian with undisguised lust, and it transformed Mirian's hurt into an anger so hot and bright he almost couldn't breathe. He lunged at the guard and punched him straight in the face.

It was strangely fascinating to hear the crunch of bone as he felt the guard's nose break under his fist. Further, it was incredibly satisfying to see the man go down like a ton of bricks. If nothing else, being a Bearer could be useful in confrontations where he was likely to be underestimated.

Naturally, Mirian had no intention of staying there to gloat over his success. He knew better than to believe his grandfather didn't have more staff around. It was likely that he hadn't thought anyone would approach the room, and he'd wanted to limit the number of people who knew about the arrangement between him and his son. But a man of his wealth and influence never went far without a large entourage, so Mirian had to get out of here as soon as possible.

He didn't bother with the elevator, instead rushing down the stairs as fast as he could. By the time he was on the ground level, there was already a lot of commotion. He supposed that even his speed couldn't surpass a simple phone call.

"Sir," one of the men at the front desk said, getting in his way, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to stop."

That couldn't have been further from Mirian's mind. Suddenly, there was nothing he wanted more than to be with Frey. He wished now that he'd trusted Frey more, that he hadn't gone off on his own after that sorry excuse of a conversation. But it was much too late for regrets. Mirian had to handle this on his own, hopefully make his way back to the mansion, where he could fall apart in the safety of Frey's arms.

He didn't hit the staff member—the man wasn't responsible for Mirian's current misfortunes. Instead, he dodged the stranger's attempt to capture him, as well as those of the other people present. He ran out of the hotel, already scanning the street for a taxi.

"Mirian!" his father called out from somewhere behind him, letting him know—perhaps unwillingly—that he didn't have much time left. "Wait! Hear me out."

Despite himself, Mirian turned to face his father. "No. I think I've heard quite enough, thank you."

They'd gathered quite a lot of onlookers now, including Mirian's grandfather, as well as a hefty amount of bodyguards who looked like clones of the man Mirian had knocked out. No one was making any threatening moves, though, and Mirian realized that, out here in the open, they couldn't really try to catch him. Things had changed for Bearers, and Mirian was not without allies. If nothing else, CCTV would record the event, and soon, the Montblancs would find him.

His panic faded somewhat, and he straightened his back, taking advantage of the occasion to say what was on his mind. "You've made your stance eloquently clear. I... I thought I could trust you above all else, but that was just another lie."