The One We Answer To: A Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 3) (36 page)

Time to ease off a bit. Play it cool.
 

The next move is hers.

A part of me’s afraid she’s only here because she needs to be.
 

Afraid this is
business
.
 

But that kiss? No way.

We still got something.

Now I just have to not fuck it up.
 

We reach the bikes. Nash helps Trish feed the professor some pills, then carefully unwraps the wound on his shoulder.
 

Trish and Nash share a long look when they see it.

The professor’s remaining hours are numbered. The bullet wound’s swollen up tight and angry red. Nasty fluid’s leaking from the hole in him.

Melchuk’s eyes roll in his head when he sees the infection. Trish holds his head up, leans him against a Harley and shouts for water. A prospect comes running with a bottleful. Trish runs some water down the professor’s face, then puts the bottle to his lips. The professor takes a few weak sips and nods.

“This is my fault,” Lily says quietly. “My fault and no one else’s.”

I brush her bangs from her eyes. “It doesn’t help. Kicking your own ass. You didn’t force anyone to follow you.”

“But that’s just it. I did! I
called
them. They sought me out, believing I could protect them—”

She bites her lip, stifling her words and another hurtful sob. Then her face twists in anger and she grinds her jaw tight and says, “That fucking bitch. Shiori. That fucking traitorous
bitch
. I should’ve done something. I
knew
she’d challenge me. That’s the worst part. It wasn’t even a surprise like it was for—”

“Me?”

Lily’s face softens. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t mention it.”

Lily pauses. Studies my face.
 

Maybe I’m closing down as well. Shutting her out.
 

Maybe there’s too much bullshit piled between us.
 

Too much heavy history.

Maybe this
should
be just business. Her pack and mine united against the Fallen. Then we go our separate ways—

Lily takes a slow breath, then continues, “My animal scented Shiori’s intentions. I should’ve gone on the offense. Challenged her first. Run her off.”

“Nothing more toxic than a packmate you can’t trust,” I say, still thinking about my dead brother.

“I wish you were with me, Aaron. When it happened? I didn’t know…”

Suddenly Lily’s legs give out. She collapses into me and it’s all I can do to get her propped against my Harley. Her eyes flutter open, then closed. She’s in and out of consciousness.

Hurt worse than I thought.

Trish digs through the medical kit, scowls and asks if it’s all we got.

I tell her yes, and Trish answers, “We need a doctor. The professor’s wound needs to be properly cleaned and bandaged. Lil needs something for that fever.”

No one says a word, but we’re all thinking the same thing: it’s the end of the world.
Everyone
needs a doctor. Trouble is, the Stricken hunted them down like all the rest.

 
Lil looks up at me, so I ask, “Where are the others? Your…pack?”

A pained expression passes over Lily’s face. “Gone. Lost. Dead. I wish I knew.”

“Shiori turned out to be even sketchier than she looks,” Trish says to Nash.

“Fuck,” Nash says.

“She took Pimniq with her, Aaron,” Lily whispers, her face pale.
 

“Took? Where?”

“Flew off with her,” Trish says. “
Abducted
that little girl. In a cloud of nasty wasps.”

“Fuck sakes,” I say. “Where?”

Lily’s shoulders slump. “To find the First Fallen. Shiori tried to convince Anik to go with her. To abandon me.”

“And did he?”

“I don’t think so,” Lily says uncertainly. “But he was close. And when I tried to stop him leaving—”

“
Anik
did this to you?”

Lily shakes her head. “Tornarsuk.”

“The motherfucker.”

Lily runs her fingers down my chest. “It wasn’t Anik’s fault. Aaron? Please? You’ve got to believe that. The bear was just…enraged. Confused. Trying to protecting his own. He charged after Shiori and Pim.”

“Tornarsuk?” Blue growls, his shoulders tensing.
 

“Yeah,” I say. “Mean something?”

Blue crushes a meaty fist into his palm. “Nah. Just a funny name is all.”

He’s lying. I know my oldest friend well enough to know that. But I decide to keep my mouth shut. He’ll tell me later. If he thinks he needs to.

“So it’s just you three?” I ask, nodding at Lily, Trish and the egghead professor.

“Yeah,” Lil says. “Just us party animals.” She looks me in the eye, then says, “Connor…got taken. By the Stricken. He’s…gone.”

Nash and me share a look.

“Aaron?” Lily says. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Forget it. That prick. Can’t stand hearing his name.”

Lily gives me an odd glance.

I decide not to tell her about Lerrick and Collazo and the Risen in Mexico City. She’s tired. It’s a shit time. She should rest.

Plus, I’m selfish enough to want a few hours or days with my bloodmate before we open old wounds.

“How long you been in the woods alone?” I ask Lil.

She shrugs, studies her scratched hands. “Hard to tell. A few days?”

Fuck sakes. No wonder my bloodmate looks haunted.

“Mia ran off after—” Trish says.

Lily lays her hand on Trish’s arm to quiet her, but I’ve already heard, and knowing Lil is also trying to keep things from me after what happened between us…that fucking stings. Pot meet kettle, I know.
 

That mountain of bullshit, of half-truths and omissions and outright lies, it just keeps on growing.

“
Mia
?” I say. “Mia was with you?”

Lily nods. “It’s not a good time. To talk.”
 

“No. It isn’t. We need to get moving. Been here too long as it is.”

I decide to let the news about Mia drop. Maybe it’s best to nurture the art of not giving a fuck. A kind of zen detachment thing. Maybe if you try to give a fuck about everything you just end up batshit crazy, locked in a concrete compound like Lily’s pops.

The last thing I need is that snake chick clouding my mind right now.
 

“I might know where they’re going,” Lily says into a heavy silence. “Shiori kept mentioning somewhere called the Pyramid of the Sun—”

“Oh yes!” Professor Melchuk says, suddenly brightening. “I’ve been meaning to say…about that. There’s only one Pyramid of the Sun that
I’m
aware of. Which means, if you’ll pardon an old man his professional hubris, that there
is
only one Pyramid of the Sun.”

Lily breathes a long, exasperated sigh while Trish cracks a smile that says lets please humor the old windbag.

“Where?” I ask.
 

“You’ve been alive on this earth for how long, Aaron?” the professor asks.

“A good long while. Why?”

Melchuk smiles. “Thought you’d recognize the name, is all. It was a very important temple in its time.”

“I tend to not give a fuck about temples at any time.”

“That’s a shame,” the professor quips.
 

“You care. I don’t.”

Melchuk presses his hand against his shoulder, winces, then says, “The Temple of the Sun is located outside of Mexico City. It predates the Aztecs. A glorious structure built along a ceremonial processional pathway named the Avenue of the Dead and flanked by the Pyramid of the Moon. Is this…ringing a bell?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard of it. Fucking hellhole. So what?”

“Hellhole?” the professor asks. “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t built by Skins,” Blue growls.

Lily’s lips tighten. “Who then?”

“No one knows,” I say, hoping to end the conversation. But I’m thinking about Carlos Collazo and Connor Lerrick and that prick who’s claiming he’s an Aztec god reborn—
 

Blue glances at the black vulture riding thermals a mile overhead. “Some Purebloods think the pyramid was built by Stricken. By the
original
Stricken.”

“The First Fallen?” Lily says.

“You smell that?” I say, sniffing the air. “Smells like bullshit.”

Lily casts me a fiery glare.
 

All right. So some subjects are off limits to shit-talk.
 

The Fallen’s one of them. Fair enough.

“Why do some of your kind believe that?” Melchuk asks, clearly very curious.

“Because none of us can get close to the fucking thing,” Blue growls.
 

“Please explain,” Melchuk says.

Blue gives Melchuk a stony glare, then says, “You ever held a dog whistle right to a dog’s ear and blown it as long and loud as you can?”

“No, young man. I can’t say I have. But I would imagine it would cause…terrible discomfort.”

“It
maddens
the animal,” Blue corrects. “And that’s what happens when a Pureblood comes within a hundred miles of that pyramid.”

The professor places two delicate fingers on his pasty chin. “Some speculate the pyramid is an ancient tomb.”

“Of course they do,” I snap. “Everything’s a tomb to you Skins.”

“The human race does possess an historical fixation with—”

“That’s where Shiori took Pim,” Lily interrupts. “Anik and Mia followed after her.”

“No prize for guessing where we’re going, I guess,” Nash says.
 

Lily almost smiles. “
We’re
going to speak to my father and find my son Lachlan. You boys do as you please, though. That’s been proven many times over.”

“No way, Lil,” Trish says. “You and the professor need a doctor.”

Lily shakes her head. “No doctors. There’s no
time
, Trish. My father…my son? He could be…” Lily takes a breath, winces, places a hand over the wound on her forehead. “I used to think my father was the First Fallen. But now with Shiori challenging me and fleeing for that temple…I don’t know. I’m not sure of anything. My son could be anywhere. I need to find him. If he’s alive. I’ll heal up—”

Lily’s voice is taking on a rambling, incoherent tone that makes my hackles rise. She’s lost. Reaching for straws and hoping for a knock-out punch, and the alpha wolf in me sees her and understands why Shiori challenged her.

My bloodmate’s not fit to lead. Not now, anyway.
 

“But you’re
not
healing,” Trish says, her black eyes flashing. “Nevermind Melchuk.”

“Trish is right,” I say, taking another look at Lily’s wounds. “That cut is deep.”

“Well, that’s awesome, guys,” Lily says, her lips twisting in derision. “But hey! In case you haven’t noticed? It’s fucking armageddon! Finding a doctor might be a tad—”

Suddenly a few of the guys keeping an eye on the sky begin hollering.
 

“The vulture!” Nash yells, dragging a very reluctant Trish across the road and down the embankment.
 

I get Lily crouching beside the motorbike, then look up. The vulture’s in full kill-mode, wings tucked close, diving straight at us. I scream at my MC to open fire. Assault rifles pop and flash, loosing a wall of booming artillery. I got my AK-47 up and blazing, screaming at the motherfucker.

A layer of blue-white frost spreads thick on the ground.
 

The metal AK is freezing in my hands.

The carrion bird’s shadow brings unnatural cold.
 

Our bullets don’t slow him.
 

The vulture’s close enough I can see his beady red eyes, wickedly curved beak and hooked talons. And something else. Something I thought I saw when the fucker snatched me off Connor the prick Lerrick. A pair of curving rams horns sprout from the vulture’s head.
 

I drop the AK and call my fucking wolf.
 

My bones shift and crack and a familiar pain makes me grin and howl as the carrion bird dives still lower—

At the last possible second the bird unfurls its wings. Cold air ripples across my fur. I crouch down and leap into the sky, knowing the bird’s smart enough to stay out of reach but not caring. I get to within a few feet of my prey. My jaws snap closed on empty air.
 

The vulture looks me dead in the eye.

Flaps its wings once.
 

Opens it mouth and caws.

The sound is like a death-scream.
 

Then I’m falling to the road, the vulture’s scream echoing and crashing around me, and when I land I see Lily’s lying flat on her back beside my Harley, eyes closed, covered in sparkling blue frost, her entire body twitching like she’s having some sort of convulsion, pink-white froth spilling from her mouth—
 

I
N
THE
WEEKS
after I gave Lachlan up for adoption I suffered terrible nightmares. They were only made worse by knowing it was the right choice. I wasn’t ready—emotionally or otherwise—to be a mother.
 

But still the nightmares came.
 

There was nothing rational about them, and no matter how hard I tried to reason with myself every night I still woke up, my pillow soaked in sweat and tears, sobbing.

Sometimes the right decisions hurt the most.

The dream never varied. There was something sinister about this…relentless repetition. Night after night after night. The same dream. It felt mechanical, like a clock ticking through the gears, like a life winding down, and that was another part of it—I always felt very small in the dream.

Helpless.
 

Like a bystander in the story of my life. A wooden marionette with an invisible puppeteer tugging on my strings, making a leg jerk here, an arm lift there.

I tried not sleeping for several days, hoping I’d fall into one of those deep, dreamless sleeps. Didn’t work. All I got was more exhausted.