Page 2 of Frenzy
Juan Pablo looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but he didn’t contradict me. The suit just threw back his head and laughed.
“He’s worth way more than you have, Dirt Dweller. Keep your brat and be happy.” With that, he climbed into the car and gunned the engine, peeling away in a spray of rocks and dirt. I spun my body so they connected with my back and not the baby.
I grunted as one particularly large stone collided with my shoulder, and decided I hated that smarmy fuck and would one day water this dirt with his blood.
When they were no more than a speck on the horizon, Juan Pablo looked down at me with both of his eyebrows raised. “What was that?”
I just shrugged, unsure of how to describe the draw of the boy to the beast in my soul. Anyway, I didn’t need to justify myself to anyone, even Juan Pablo.
We picked our way over the fallen down fence that marked the front of the derelict gas station from the rear. Parked around back was the brand new SUV that I’d bought with my inheritance. It was bulletproof and bombproof. I had learned from my father’s death. I climbed in, and Juan Pablo slid into the driver's seat. I didn’t have one of those baby seat things, so I continued to hold Rosa.
It was an hour's drive to the compound, and despite being tiny, the weight of her body in my arms was beginning to make my biceps ache by the time we pulled through the compound's gates. Men with AKs stood on every corner, keeping watch. My father’s death had caused a feeding frenzy as other cartels tried to step into his territory, but Juan Pablo had held them back for me, and would continue to do so until I could take full control on my eighteenth birthday.
As soon as the car stopped, Dominic appeared. He wrenched open my door and had his face in my lap, staring at the baby.
“You got it.”
I nodded. “Her.”
He pulled back, screwing up his nose. “Smells like shit.”
My nose twitched, and I realized he was right. “Probably is shit.”
Dominic was my best friend, but he was also fucking weird. Actually, people thought he was great and that I was the weird one. They just didn’t know we were both fucked up beyond repair. I trusted no one the way I trusted Dominic. We were halves of the same whole.
Dominic leaned down and sniffed the baby again, before looking up at me, confused. “Her blankets smell weird.”
He had a great nose. Probably had something to do with him being a wolf shifter. “What do you mean?”
“She smells like one hundred percent tiger shifter, but the blankets? They smell a little bit like you. Like Manix.”
I froze, flashes of the boy with the blue eyes playing on repeat in my mind. “Are you sure?”
Dominic nodded solemnly. “You know I wouldn’t fuck around about something like that.”
Holy shit. It made sense now, why I had wanted to keep Pryce with me. Father had said that we were the only Manix remaining in the world, but he was wrong.
Pryce was Manix. He was like me, possibly one of the last three remaining Manix in the world. Me, The Girl, and the boy with haunted blue eyes who I’d let go.
1
Dominic
While I’d always pretended to understand Court’s obsession, I’d never seen the point of burning everything we had built in the quest to fulfil a promise that no father should ever have elicited from a twelve-year-old kid.
But Courtland was my best friend, so when he found ‘The Girl’ and wanted to sink our entire fortune into rescuing her, I’d had his back.
Now we’d done it, rescued his sister Naja, but in the process, we’d drawn the eyes of the Convocation—the ruling Council of Supernaturals. Each supernatural race had a leader in the Convocation, and we fell under the purview of Alexander, the motherfucking Dragon King. As thankful as they were that we’d helped save the last remaining female Manix Omega, they weren’t going to let us sit on our asses down here in the desert, running fucking drugs and drawing the gaze of humans.
I threw back the last of my tequila. Fuck it all. I glanced over at Courtland as he stood at the window of his office, his suit perfectly pressed even though he’d just hopped off a flight from Montana.
“What’s the plan?” I asked the back of his head, and he lifted a single shoulder but didn’t turn.
“Pack it up. Try being a civilian for a while. This whole thing”—he waved a hand at his walled kingdom—“it’s served its purpose now. Perhaps hand it over to Juan Luca; he’s the next logical successor.” He stopped and turned, his eerie black eyes staring into mine. “Unless you want it, Dom? The Convocation doesn’t know about your involvement, or that you’re a shifter. You deserve all this more than most.”
I snorted and got up to pour myself more tequila. “Fuck off, asshole. My place is with you, always has been. And if that means wearing Hawaiian fucking shirts and speedos in Cabo, so be it.”
As I predicted, Courtland shuddered. Hell, I’d pay good money to see Courtland in a flower-printed shirt. Juan Luca was human, and the Convocation didn’t give a shit what humans did—whether they killed or maimed or irrevocably destroyed themselves—just as long as one of us wasn’t at the helm.
