Page 21 of Deadly Ties

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells me again, and there’s so much compassion in her voice, it shoves a lump like a fist down my throat. I know it’s just because I’m starved for even the smallest bit of kindness, but I can’t help reaching out and skimming her pink cheek with my knuckles. She freezes, her breath making a little squeaking sound as she sucks it in, and a rich, heady perfume suddenly fills the air. If I wasn’t staring at the mating mark on her neck – big enough to scare off even the most motivated alpha – I’d think she was attracted to me.

Yeah, because a stinky, half-dead scarecrow is so appealing, you dickhead.

I clench my fist, but before I can pull away, there’s a loud noise in the hallway and my eyes snap to the door. “Who’s that?”

Her lashes flicker like she’s reading the inside of her eyelids, and I remember seeing her do that back in the basement. Her whole body freezes up, and she’s clearly not in this room right now. There’s only one omega I ever saw act like this, and it was because she was mated to a very powerful, possessive alpha. Concern churns in my empty stomach, but before I can ask her about it, she bites her lip and stares at me with her bright, cat eyes. “My mate is back, and he’s got Cam and Rory with him.”

I forget everything in that moment. My intriguing host. The strange house. Even most of the last horrific year. I don’t even care I’m weak as fuck and probably on the verge of passing out, because as soon as she flips the bedroom lock, I can smell them. Rory. Cam. And something dark and dangerous that makes my hindbrain sit up and take notice. But mostly I smell blood, and it’s a hell of a lot more than the random splatters on my chest.

Someone is fuckinghurt!

“Rory! Cam!” I’m pushing right past Angel, out into a hallway where my eyes strain to take it all in. Rory is staring back at me like he’s seen a ghost, but I can’t even give him a reassuring smile, because Cam is leaning heavily on him, his thigh wrapped in a makeshift tourniquet. And there’s blood caked all over him. So much of it, Cam’s tanned skin is the color of dirty paper. But even as the cry of alarm leaves my lips, my gaze is swinging to the guy on Cam’s other side. And my hindbrain gives me a slap, every instinct screaming at me to run.

Because that’s Arben Marku, Bisha’s assassin.

And he has my bleeding mate in his arms!

“Cam!” I shudder, desperate to leap forward and snatch him up, but my feet won’t shift. Mainly because I can’t look away from Doctor Death. Who is wearing a custom tuxedo and holding Angel’s silver shoes in his hand. “What the fuck?”

Not exactly eloquent, but then Angel is at my side, rubbing circles on my shaking back. “It’s okay,” she tells me for what must be the tenth time. “Arben, what happened?”

It takes me a moment to realize she’s using that sweet, worried voice on the assassin.

“Bullet to the thigh,” he rumbles back at her, his devil-black eyes focused on the hand that’s still stroking my spine. “Thought it best to bring him here so Mrs. Lewis can patch him up.”

“Good idea,” she mutters, wincing a little as she stares at my brothers. But then her back straightens and she nods. “Bring him inside.”

“Wait a second!” I screech. “You got shot!” I grab Cam’s arm as they move towards the bedroom, effectively blocking the door. But then Rory is pulling me hard against his chest and we’re all locked in a rough, shaking huddle. “Jesus. What’s going on? Are you really here?”

It’s a stupid question. I can feel their solid warmth under my hands, their delicious scents swirling around me. And then there’s the fact Cam is bleeding. I’d never let that kind of nightmare into my dreams.

Angel is still guiding us backwards with soothing touches, and we crab-walk over to the bed. The guys are looking around, clearly as unfamiliar with the place as I am, and then Cam catches sight of the bed. “I can’t bleed on your bed, Elvi.”

My gaze snaps to Angel, whose pink cheeks are now bright red. “It’s not mine,” she says again, but without the sympathy she gave me. “Just lie down, Cam. You too, Kelly.”

And then she’s looking the assassin over, and her heart is throbbing in her eyes. “Are you okay? Did they get you anywhere?”

Doctor Death makes another of those rumbling sounds, although this time I think it’s meant to be a laugh. “It was nothing, princeshë. The wolfling just caught an unlucky round. A flesh wound, correct Mrs. Lewis?”

I stumble around to find a tiny omega who has to be at least eighty striding into the room with a sewing basket over her arm. She clicks her tongue, waving me to the bed, and my ass hits the side of the mattress like she’s wielding some kind of voodoo. I’m so confused, the sight of Angel leaving the room arm-in-arm with the assassin almost doesn’t faze me.

“Damn, Kelly. You look like shit, bro!”

Trust Rory not to sugarcoat my sub-par appearance. But I don’t take offence, scooting back on the bed. It’s wide enough to take an omega and at least three mates, and I quickly pull him down beside me. The ancient omega is unpacking her basket, but I just wrap myself around Rory and shove my bony spine in Cam’s direction. His hand comes down on my back, right where Angel stroked me, and his alpha purr rumbles in my ear.

“You feel so good!” I hate the needy sound in my voice, but I am completely out of my head now, running on pure instinct. “I thought I’d never touch you again. And shit, you’re all dressed up. Are these tuxedo pants?” I rub my cheek against Rory’s thigh and it’s almost as silky as the thousand-count bedsheet. “I love them, but can you take them off? I need to feel your skin.”

Rory makes a choking sound, but it’s Cam who eases my shoulders back beside him on the bed. I don’t let go of Rory, so he has to fold himself at my side, and I wiggle until my head is on Cam’s shoulder. It gives me a perfect view of the omega, who is wearing a black-and-white uniform and smiling at me like I’m not being completely ridiculous. “If that’s what he wants, give it to him,” she tells my brothers. “I need to check him over after I’m done with my stitching, but then you can all have some privacy. Nest, my dears. It’s the best way to settle you all.”

That sounds about perfect, but Cam is already trying to escape, pushing himself up on an elbow. “I’m a medic,” he says in his no-nonsense way, although he hisses a bit as she starts cleaning his wound with an antiseptic wipe. “I’ll take care of us.”

“You’ll lie back and let me do my job,” the omega replies, taking a needle and surgical thread from her basket and studying the makeshift tourniquet. It’s his shirt, I realize, the leg of his pants shredded up to his crotch. “Now, Master Arben called ahead and said you didn’t want any medication, is that correct?”

“No drugs,” Cam confirms, but I’m stuck on theMaster Arbenbit.

I gape at the little old woman. “Your boss is Doctor Death?”

The omega clicks her tongue at me. “I work for Alpha Ferrier, but I won’t abide name calling in this house. Especially against someone as sweet as Master Arben.”

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