Page 67 of Sire
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SIRE
Jesus,Jesus.I thought the Bible had drama, but my family is running a close second.
“So, tell me about Zar’s initiation.” Wren sits on my island countertop, sipping tea. “And my initiation. What will it be like?”
No, wait. We’re about to be tied for the dramatic lead.
I’ve brewed chamomile tea so I could calm the fuck down after that fight, but apparently, Wren’s excited, too. For all the tempting reasons.
Setting my mug beside her, I stand between her legs. It’s an ungodly hour in the early morning, but my angel always looks like heaven.
“Before we discuss initiations, give me the green light to kill him.”
We stare at each other before she’s slitting her eyes. “Do you really think Waylon’s hurting other girls?”
“I know he is.”
“How?”
“My brothers don’t know this. It’s part of my damning secret about my father, but he sends me clues.”
“Clues?” She shocks back. “What is this? ‘CSI’?”
“I don’t know why he does it, but people are at stake, so I follow them, and that’s how I found you. That youngest girl that I rescued with you?”
Her face bends, heartbroken. “Kelsey?”
“Yeah. She was from Chilhowee. Waylon’s part of a ring, grabbing girls from rural towns.” Her breath changes. “How did he grab you? You’d burned down his lab, his crew was dead, so how did he kidnap you?”
With resignation, she sighs, “I was camping, trying to hide and hunt, and it worked for months, until he tracked me down and got me while I was sleeping. The next thing I knew, I was in the back of a semi-truck with nine other girls.”
The images I conjure of him hurting Wren, of him hurting all those girls, make me snarl, “Giveme the green light, Wren.”
“Don’t hurt Alan.”
“You have my word.”
“Okay,” she sighs. “But I’m going with you.”
I huff, “The hell you are, Annie Oakley.”
She huffs back, “The hell you can find him without me, city boy. That’s the deal. You want vengeance, and I want Alan in treatment. Deal or no deal.”
She jabs her hand out, raising an eyebrow. Her lips are sealed, which is fucking rare.
This is my lesson: never negotiate with terrorists when you’re falling in love with them.
“Deal.” I shake her small hand.
She lifts mine to her lips, sucking my middle finger before tempting me, “Now, tell me about the initiation tonight.”
Gently, I grab her hips. “I can’t tell you about Zar’s initiation. I’ll never lie to you, but initiations are sacred, and the kings don’t talk about them. We do it out of respect for ourqueens. If you want to know what happened, you’ll need to ask Zar.”
Her voice rises. “Did you justtrickme?”
“No. No matter what, I can’t tell you about initiations.”
