Page 78 of Sinful Mates

Slade’s face nudged into the camera as Castor finished a sentence. “That’s for fucking with us, cunts.” Gloating asshole was having too much fun.

Castor’s video moved onto a local news story where a journalist commenced her news report. “Concerned community members have taken it into their own hands and organized citizens arrests, taking down one police officer and a local judge.”

Footage switched to angry citizens dragging a cuffed, beaten and subdued officer into the town square.

“Protesters swarmed outside of the offices of politicians demanding answers,” the reporter went on, the footage cutting to a private press conference.

Fuck. Castor’s video was making a difference. I shouldn’t be such a skeptical, negative asshole all the time. My natural state when I saw all kinds of depraved souls in the Duat.

“At this point, we’re conducting investigations into the shocking claims made by these videos and attempting to identify the culprits.” Lies spewed by the perpetrators’friends in high placesto swaddle and buffer them from criminal charges.

Castor came back onto the screen. “The chatter on social media’s too loud for the media to ignore and they’ve had to address it. For every lie and suppression, the public is spreading more information like wildfire. This is the reckoning of the century.” He chef kissed, and Aaliyah clapped her hands. “This is excellent news. They won’t come after us. They won’t be able to. Too public. Too dangerous. Politicians will want votes.”

Best news we had a in the last six months. I tightened my hold on Aaliyah, hope blossoming in my chest like a new rosebud, when it had been dead for a long time.

The VP cut to another news story titled, “Public Pressure Forces Mayor and Member of Calare Electorate to Retract Their Stories and Admit They’re Wrong.”

Pleasantly surprised, I scrubbed my stubble. The skeptical asshole in me could go fuck himself.

At the video’s end, I tucked my phone in my back pocket. “The cops and politicians won’t take this lying down. They’ll search for who’s behind the leaks. They’ve backed off us for the moment, but it wouldn’t be long for them to strike again in other ways when it’s safe to.”

Calm before the storm. We shouldn’t let our guard down and get complacent thinking this was the end. Bracing for the next hit to the club was the smarter move, but, hey, I wasn’t VP anymore and didn’t make those kinds of decisions.

“Let’s not think about that today, huh?” Aaliyah gave me dagger eyes to warn me not to trigger Alaric.

I swatted her ass. “Grab the door for me, Hellhound Bitch.”

As she did yesterday, Aaliyah paused by the door, gripping Alaric’s shoulder as we navigated the windowpanes inside. “Are you sure you want to go inside?”

Hearing that made my heart surge with appreciation. The woman always put us first even when she had to confront the location of her uncle’s murder.

Memory hit of what the club looked like after the Wolves’ raid. Total fucking mess. Blood everywhere. Two bodies pumped with bullet holes. Beds, chairs, furniture tossed everywhere and smashed. Everything fucking ruined. Goddamn Wolves. For destroying my shelter and kidnapping the trafficked women, they deserved to die. Every single one of them.

“Get inside, woman.” Alaric jerked his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“All right. Let me know if any panic or anxiety comes on.” She left a concerned kiss on his cheek and cleared the entrance for us to shuffle inside to set the package on the ground by the broken row of front windows.

“Love you, angel.” Alaric curled her head into his chest, branding her back with comforting swipes.

Her arms went around him, prompting me to move to her back, close her in, let her feel the warmth of my body. We were stronger as a family. The gods knew it. We knew it. Hell would descend on Earth if the gods failed to protect their servants. Aaliyah seemed content to soak up our affection, but that wouldn’t get the shelter fixed.

“Get your sexy ass to work.” I stopped to kiss the top of her hair and broke apart from the group hug.

Alaric lingered for a longer embrace. “His loss.” Aaliyah murmured her agreement.

“No one’s gonna break in here next time.” I hinted for them to get to work, unhinging my knife and dragged it through the cardboard, removing it, exposing the iron bars.

Alaric would weld these to the bricks so that no one could enter the shelter through the windows. Then two of us would install breakproof doors to prevent intruders by that means. That only left the roof as a possible weakness. Something to fortify later.

Once we dragged all the supplies, equipment, and tools inside, Aaliyah surveyed all the resources. “You sure you don’t want to get a handyman to install all this?”

I huffed. “We know what we’re doing, don’t we, Hawk Boy?” I caught myself using Slades’ nickname for Alaric and questioned where it came from.

“Please. I am the handyman.” Alaric crossed his arms over his chest.

Aaliyah’s eyebrows mushed together.

“Every vacation my grandpa dragged me up to his place to help him with a renovation on his or one of his siblings’ houses.” Alaric snatched up the glazing rubber, preparing to fix the replacement windows in place. “Building is a Hawke family tradition."

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