Page 36 of Cause Of Death

“Kieran… I don’t know how to say this…” Henley’s voice wavers with the threat of tears, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.

“Henley, it’s okay. I’ll do it. They need me alive for whatever they have planned, and you can’t rescue me if you’re dead. We need to knowwhothey are, and where they’re based. This is the quickest way to find all that out. Besides, this way we can fox them in their own lair, and end them once and for all. All of you, go hide away somewhere if you can. I’ll make myself easy prey for them to capture, and then you can turn the tables on them, follow the tracker in my back to wherever I end up.”

Kieran pulls the Sig Sauer and spare magazines from his pockets, offering them back to Steve. He then turns to Adam, stepping up to the alpha and stroking his hand along his cheekbone, brushing away the tears that streak his swarthy skin.

“I have loved you from almost the moment I laid eyes on you, Adam Knight. You have been the alpha of my dreams, and I refuse for this to be the end of our story. Stay strong, stay focused, and when it’s time, come and be my knight in black armor.”

Another agonized creak comes from the direction of the garage, and Kieran takes it as his cue. Without another word he spins on his heels and dashes out the door of the suite and into the main body of the house. Kimberly tugs Adam into her arms, yanking his head down to her chest to muffle his cries as we watch his heart break.

A soft breath tickles my ear, beeswax and lemongrass redolent in my nose as I inhale my alpha’s scent. In the softest bark I’ve ever heard, Hen gives me an order I’m only too willing to follow.

“Disa. Wisp out. Now.”

The house is stilland silent as I float through the air, following the lingering traces of Kieran’s exit from the master suite. The others are all barricaded in there, and we can only hope that whatever information Pyotr and his cronies are operating with is lacking. If Kieran is easy to find, perhaps they won’t stick around to go through the rest of the house.

I find Kieran hiding in the walk-in pantry, the door left ajar just enough to let him see out, and to also allow his scent to be followed. I curl around his shoulders, brushing my incorporeal form along his cheek in a gentle caress, hoping he’ll realize that he’s not alone.

“Wisp?” he breathes out, and I shiver a little at the reverence on his tongue as he speaks my name. “If that’s you, tickle my left ear.”

I immediately comply, wanting to give Kieran as much comfort and support as I can.

“Oh, thank fuck for that. I’m glad you’re with me, I don’t want to go through this alone. I’m so fucking scared, but knowing you’re here gives me hope. Just promise that you won’t do anything that could end up with you caught as well, okay?”

I brush against Kieran’s cheek once more in response. I don’t promise him anything, and not only because I physically can’t at this moment. I don’t want to lie to him, and if me gettingcaught ends up with his safe release, then I’ll offer myself up in a heartbeat.

One last creak that ends in a reluctant squeal of metal grating against metal echoes from the garage before heavy footsteps thud toward the interior door connecting it to the house. A heavy blow thumps against the barrier, then another. A third lands and crashes the door open beneath its force, and it’s like the world holds its breath.

“I can smell his sweet, omega ass from here. Spread out and find him, fast. We don’t want to linger, even if it would be fun to tear his alpha to shreds for the hell of it.”

If I had a spine, chills would be running up and down it from the malevolence in the voice I assume belongs to Pyotr the Butcher. As it is, Kieran is wracked with shudders and his teeth begin chattering in fear, his scent turning sour and bitter from the emotions ravaging him.

A deep breath sounds from close by, followed by a gravelly chuckle.

“Never mind, boys. I think I’ve found him.”

The very earth seems to tremble as slow, threatening steps land, each one bringing malignant evil closer to Kieran’s hiding place. The ambient light seeping in from the crack in the pantry door disappears, an immense body blocking the space. Kieran chokes back a gasp, and I securely anchor myself to his body, wrapping my intangible form around him protectively. I might not be able to do much in this form, but at least I can provide Kieran with some comfort.

The door gradually opens on silent hinges, the movement drawn-out with terrifying effect. The silhouette of an alpha—who I’m pretty sure is Pyotr the Butcher—looms menacingly in the empty doorway, his stench redolent of copper pennies and rotting meat. It’s enough to make me gag.

In a quick burst of movement, he reaches into the pantry, grabs Kieran by the throat, and slams his head into the wall. The alpha then shifts his grip slightly, lifting the now-unconscious omega from the floor by his neck before turning and throwing him to someone else. We both go flying through the air, and I do my best to cushion Kieran’s body as he crashes into the hard torso of yet another alpha. This one’s stink is different to Pyotr's, his odor similar to the beach at low-tide. While the smell of dried and decaying seaweed, sulfurous mud, and rotting fish isn’t as stomach-churning as Pyotr's abandoned abattoir aroma, it’s still not one I want to be around on a regular basis.

The low-tide alpha slings Kieran over one shoulder and follows Pyotr out through the broken door into the garage, and then out through the mangled roller door. It looks as though they used a hydraulic jack to force the metal apart, which is both annoying because now the entire assembly will need replacing, but also a positive, because it means it took them a while to get inside, and that this is likely to be the only breach in our security.

Kieran is carried out to a dark pickup truck, the gleaming chrome of the model standing out against the matte black grille. Pyotr slides into the driver’s seat, while the alpha carrying us shoves Kieran into the rear of the cab and into the arms of another stranger before hopping into the front passenger seat. With a twist of his wrist, Pyotr revs the engine and then peels out of the driveway in a cloud of burning rubber. I hover above Kieran, glancing out of the rear window to see another pickup truck following close behind.

This feels all-too familiar, and I don’t like it.

“What’s the plan now, boss? I mean, whoever took him from Conroy didn’t seem too fussed about providing him a guard since we couldn’t read any other heat signatures in the house, but what if they were monitoring him from a remote location?”

This comes from the alpha in the front, and both he and Pyotr glance at Kieran in the rear-view mirror. Pyotr grunts, reaching into one of his pockets and fumbling around for a moment, only to pull out a switchblade.

“We have him now, and I don’t want anyone following us. Cut that thing out of his back and toss it. See if you can aim for the bed of another truck, send them on a wild fucking goose chase if they’re tracking him.” Pyotr tosses the unopened blade over his shoulder to the man in the back, who catches it and flicks it open with vindictive glee.

“Let’s see how prettily this little bitch bleeds,” the repugnant sack of shit sneers, yanking up Kieran’s T-shirt, and then the undershirt beneath. He roughly probes around on Kieran’s back, pinching around the tracker once he finds it. He shows Kieran no mercy or kindness as he slices open the flesh, Kieran’s blood a crimson torrent washing over his skin. I blanch as the man—another alpha who stinks of sweaty gym socks, bad body odor, and old smegma—sticks his dirty, grease-stained fingers into the open wound.

I shudder to think of the number of germs crawling all over Gym-Bro’s hands, that are now invading Kieran’s body and undoing all of Steve and Henley’s hard work to keep him healthy. By the time this is over, we’ll be lucky if Kieran isn’t hospitalized in an attempt to keep his temperature under control. A spike thanks to his heat, combined with an infection-induced fever isn’t going to doanyoneany favors.

That is, of course, if we manage to get out of thisbeforeour heats hit. Something tells me that they’re planning on taking full advantage of Kieran’s predicament for their own, nefarious needs.

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