BloodSworn (13 page)

Trina gazed at both men and knew that she couldn’t stand by
and do nothing. She had to at least try. She rubbed her brow, and a hint of a
smile lifted Merrick’s expression for the first time since the meeting.

“You’re going to help.”

She frowned at him. “I can try, but—”

“You trying is more than what we have right now. The men are
waiting for you.” He walked toward the door and reached outside. When he
turned, her bag was in his hands. “I thought you might want your notes.”

A little spurt of panic sent her heart racing. She held out
her hand, and he relinquished her bag without qualm. She expected to find it
ransacked, but nothing appeared disturbed. She didn’t even think he’d peeked
inside.

A hand lifted to her face, and she ducked, her arms coming
up in a defensive move. And met Merrick’s stare. His movements slowed but
didn’t stop, as if she were a damned animal he was gentling. He tucked a piece
of hair behind her ear.

One finger caressed the side her face and then ran over the
tip of her ear. Like he flipped a switch she hadn’t known she’d possessed, a
shudder of pure want enveloped her. Unable to help herself, craving the touch
of another person…no, craving
his
touch, she leaned toward him. It had
been so long since she’d allowed anybody close.

She couldn’t have picked anyone worse than the Leo of the
pride, but logic didn’t change her body’s reaction one bit.

Without another word, he turned and left, the door swinging
shut behind him. She stared at the closed door, trying to get her breathing
back under control. She’d thought he was going to kiss her. Hell, even though
she knew it would only complicate things, she had cuddled up to him, eager as a
kitten for attention.

Thankfully, one of them had some common sense.

It galled her to admit that it had been him.

When she turned, it was to find that her guard had his back
toward her to give them privacy. As if sensing her regard, he turned to face
her.

His appearance was lean, almost rangy, a dark blond mop of
hair that made her itch for a scissors to fix it. Though he was a shifter, the
man was armed to the gills. He was a soldier. A leader even. She didn’t know
jack about shifter communities, but she’d bet her new stake she was correct.

“What’s your name?”

“Weston.”

He didn’t say if it was a first or last name, and she didn’t
ask, afraid he would demand answers of his own.

“Wolves might be treacherous, but cats are sneaky.” He
nodded to the door. “You should be wary of him.”

Part of her was leery, but she’d been away from her family
and on the run for so long that she was running on fumes. If she didn’t start
trusting someone, it would be much too late for any of them.

“And I should trust you?”

Weston shrugged. “Maybe not, but I don’t have a hidden
agenda.”

It stung to admit that Merrick might, and she snapped back. “Don’t
you? You lead your own men. I saw you from my window each time they came for
help, guarding their backs. Leaders are always plotting.”

Again with the damn shrug. “True enough, but you’re valuable
to the pack now. That makes you both protected and vulnerable.”

Now that she had him talking, she pushed for more. “Because
of the concubine thing.”

He nonchalantly reached for his weapon, and checked the clip
as if to keep his hands busy. “That’s part of it.” He racked one into the
chamber. The sound was deadly, and she wondered why she didn’t feel threatened
by him.

He’d pulled a gun.

He was alone with her.

It would be easy to kill her right then.

Then he looked up at her with such stark eyes that her
paranoia eased. “My men and I are mercenaries. We travel from territory to
territory wherever we’re needed. We don’t pledge to just one pack, and we never
stay in one place long.”

“But you stayed here for over a year. I’ve been patching
your men up for that long.”

He holstered the gun. “Trouble’s brewing, and it’s starting
here. We go where we’re needed.”

“And you won’t leave until it’s settled.” He didn’t sound
much like a mercenary, more like a man who was determined to do what needed to
be done.

“We’re a motley group, but we’re the best.”

“And what do you want in return for guarding me?”

His teeth flashed in a bright smile, but faded as soon as it
came. “When the trouble begins, you will be the center of it. In the meantime,
you will find the cure for CreedMark.”

He sounded so confident, so sure of her.

He knew too much.

Pieces of him didn’t add up. She didn’t want to believe he
was the threat, but she couldn’t assume he was innocent just because she didn’t
want to believe it.

His pack was the only one who had known where she’d lived.
And now that place was destroyed. Had he followed her to the pack? Or
orchestrated the whole thing to get her here?

Instincts kicked in. She fisted her hands until the
sharpened edges of the ring she’d filed down pinched then cut deep.

When blood scented the air, she saw him turn toward her, his
gun drawn with incredible speed as he searched for a target.

But she was faster. She lifted her hand, a trickle of blood running
down her finger. The magic in the room thickened, coming to her call.

She poured in more until Weston’s form moved like he was
stuck in molasses. A few seconds more and he stopped altogether. In retaliation
for raising so much magic, the bindings wrapped around her chest until she struggled
for each inhalation. The consequences were growing stronger. She had less than
a minute before she passed out. She approached cautiously, Weston’s rage
palpable the closer she drew.

She took her bloody finger and pressed it to the front of
his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, his body bowing to her touch.

There was more to him than just being a shifter. “You have
magic.”   

She backed away and popped her finger in her mouth to remove
the blood staining her finger. Whatever magic the blood had activated suddenly vanished,
and she nearly keeled over at the abrupt loss.

Weston tumbled forward, barely catching himself in time. He
glared at her when he straightened, and she half-expected him to aim his gun at
her.

“How?”

He headed toward the door as if to leave, and she hurried
after him.

“Don’t. Please. It’s important. I wouldn’t have risked
exposing myself otherwise.”

That gave him pause, but the stiff set of his shoulders let
her know that he hadn’t forgiven her. With his back still toward her, his hand
on the knob, he spoke. “My grandfather mated with the pack’s Familiaran and
produced offspring.”

He vanished before she could push him for more. Part of her
wondered if he might be psychic. It would explain the things he knew with such
certainty.

And she’d just pissed him off.

Great.

She absently straightened the nearest bed, tucking the
disturbed blanket around the young kid again. Taking a deep breath, she opened
the door.

It was time to earn her keep.

 
Chapter Fifteen

“
I
t’s
time to eat.”

Those were the first words her silent shadow had spoken
since she’d used her magic on him. It might have been wrong of her, but she had
to know if he was a threat. Now she wondered if she’d made an enemy of the man
who was supposed to be her protector.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since the incident. The
speculation in them had nothing to do with romance. She was almost glad he’d
broken the silence between them.

Trina lifted her head and rubbed her neck, taking stock of
her surroundings. The line had reduced drastically in the few hours since she’d
started drawing blood and jotting down medical histories. There were at least
another dozen to go.

Some of the men were friendly, while others refused to speak
a word more than what was needed. The names and faces grew jumbled in her mind,
so she knew it was time for a break.

“He’s right.” Glenda came to her side and nudged her away.
“I’ll take over.”

With her hands empty, she clenched them, uncertain what to
do with herself. “You’ll send the findings to my room and those of the current
patients?”

“Of course.” Glenda smiled and pushed her toward the door.
“Go eat. I can handle things here.”

“Come.” Weston walked toward the door and held it open for
her, but not before scanning the hallway.

She’d done that action so often in the last few months that
she recognized his hypersensitivity. Although her mind told her it was foolish
to rely on someone else, she found herself relaxing. This man wouldn’t miss
anything.

She grabbed her satchel and followed.

Once they left the lab, the silence stretched out before them.
“I’m sorry, but I had to know if you were a threat.” She shrugged. “I didn’t
know of another way.”

He gave her an inscrutable look. “You could’ve asked.”

Trina blinked at the statement and fiddled with her ring,
feeling foolish that his answer hadn’t even occurred to her. “Would you have
told me? I’m not able to detect lies. My magic doesn’t work that way.” Not
without it taking its pound of flesh. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

He remained silent for a while then gave a single nod. “If I
wanted you, I could’ve grabbed you at any time during the last year.”

She couldn’t fault his logic, kicking herself for not
thinking of it. If the pack had been expecting her, she would’ve been caught a
lot sooner. She’d been on her own too long, seeing trouble when there was none.
If she didn’t curb them, her suspicions were going to ruin the rest of her stay.

The massive hallway reminded her of castles of old, where
knights in full armor roamed the hallways. “Why is everything built so big? I
mean, most of the shifters are larger than life, but are you hiding giants that
I don’t know about?”

A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “Not quite. The
halls were built with both humans and animals in mind. Think of two large,
six-hundred pound cats walking down the hall. There’s barely enough room for
you to get out of the way in time.”

Trina blinked at him, uncertain if he was yanking her chain.
She hadn’t seen many shifters in their animal form and none since she’d arrived
at Den. Since most people knew little of shifters, it wasn’t a common
occurrence in the real world either. “That’s why the floors and walls are
stones. Claws would tear up normal floors.” Then she gulped. “Do animals often roam
these halls?”

His smile turned cryptic, and he didn’t answer. They headed
up the stairs to another wide hallway decorated with paintings of wars gone by.

Curiosity got the better of her as door after door flashed
by. “Can you give me a layout of the house?” When he remained tight-lipped, she
prodded him. “So I don’t get in trouble.”

A heavy sigh escaped him. “The basement is set up as the med
area. There are a few emergency entrances, either guarded or locked by the
security system. The codes are changed regularly to restrict access.

“This main level contains the mess hall at the rear.” The hallway
opened up and branched off to three different areas. They took the passage to
the right, and headed toward the back. Laughter erupted from behind them, and she
arched a brow at him.

“The rec room covers the front of the house. Most of the
shifters gather there during their down time. It’s harder for anyone to enter
without someone knowing. Reading area, library, TV, videos, games, pool table.

“The rest of the men, when not here or on patrol, remain in
the barracks outside. Sleeping quarters for guests are on the second floor,
along with the training rooms.”

“The third level has the bedrooms for the higher-ups and the
Leo’s personal living space. The alpha’s personal guards stay on the third
floor as well.”

Voices sounded in front of them and she knew her tour was
coming to an end. “And you and your men?”

“We stay in the barracks.”

Then she understood. Even if his men were offered a place in
the house, they would refuse. He said they were mercenaries. They couldn’t afford
to become attached or pledged to one specific pack if they wanted to remain
impartial warriors. So they would stay outside and roam the grounds and beyond.

They might have wandered to her front doorstep, but they
came back because they considered her an outsider, someone like them.

The mess hall was packed. A clear division of shifters
gathered at the different tables, the noise raucous as they threw taunts at
each other.

Until they caught sight of her.

Feeling very conspicuous, Trina followed Weston’s lead and
headed toward the food. Curiosity touched some of the men, while hostility
radiated from others, and she surveyed them cautiously. Though there was
tension, they stood united, and she realized that she missed being part of a
group that just accepted you.   

Energy whirled in the room. It was flavored like magic but with
a slightly different tang, and she realized it rose from the shifters
themselves. It was the feel of their beasts. She fisted her hand as the power
around her thickened, battering against her like a persistent mosquito.

When she inhaled, some of the magic burned down her throat
and spilled into her lungs. Her chest tightened. Air became thick like water. She
blew out a heavy breath, and the magic swirled away from her, brushing over the
people.

She blinked and blinked a second time as her sight altered
to allow her to peer below the surface of their human flesh to see the animal
beneath.

Holy shit.

Her magic must have cast a spell of its own accord as if to protect
her. Curiosity got the best of her, and she glanced around the room again.   

The table that glared daggers was comprised mostly of
wolves. Judith’s leftovers, no doubt.

Seeing one reality superimposed over another in a sort of
double vision created a dull throbbing beat behind her eyes. The pressure built
the longer she used the spell. When she stumbled over smooth floor, she knew
now was not the time to play with her new power and reluctantly let it go.

Her vision dulled, shapes blurred. She nearly ran smack into
Weston’s back.

“You all right?”

She gave him a bright smile, his face a fuzzy blob. “Sure.”

He grabbed her arm above the elbow, his grip just short of
brutal. “Sit.”

Trina allowed him to guide her, too grateful for the support
when her vision faded completely black. She plopped her ass down as directed,
blindly reaching out and touching the table in front of her. The total darkness
only lasted a few seconds before the colors burst back into view, but she hated
being so vulnerable, especially in a room full of shifters.

Great first impression, Trina. She couldn’t imagine what the
others thought of her entrance.

 “Here.” Weston pushed a glass of water into her hands, her
shaky fingers automatically curling around the cup. She hadn’t even seen him leave.

Then she realized he hadn’t when she saw another man standing
behind him. The boy was younger, but she recognized him as one of Weston’s
people.

“I haven’t eaten in a while, that’s all. I’ll be fine.” She
brushed away their concern. It wasn’t a lie exactly. She hadn’t eaten since
last night at the gym. That just wasn’t what caused her to falter.

Weston narrowed his eyes as if sensing more, but didn’t
dispute her claim. “Grab us some food.”

The man snapped to attention and marched away at a fast clip.

“Not even a concubine for a day, and she already demands
shifters do her bidding.” Weston didn’t bristle, didn’t move as his gaze
tracked the source of the comment.

She didn’t need to turn to know it was the wolves,
antagonism radiating from them like poison.

“Don’t.” She resisted grabbing Weston’s arm, knowing better
than to restrict his movements any more than necessary. Voices quieted and
people subtly shifted, taking sides.  

She gauged the distance to the door.

Too far.

She and Weston were on their own.

She’d survived on her own for years. She could survive here,
too. She shoved her hand in her satchel, her fingers closing around the handle
of her amathe. A familiar hum of recognition settled under her fingers, and she
forced her muscles loose and ready.

No one else reached for their weapons, and she realized only
Weston and his men carried them. Not that shifters needed metal to be
considered deadly.

It might not be fair to bring a knife to a fistfight, but
when the opponent had ten razor sharp claws and fangs to boot, screw fair.

Dishes clattered to the floor and Trina whirled, coming to
her feet, pulling her weapon free. Nervous titters echoed in the room, and a
few of the wolves guffawed. The man Weston had sent to retrieve their food
stood with an empty tray, no doubt courtesy of the wolves.

The first fist flew, and in a matter of seconds, everyone was
in motion as if they’d forgotten everything at the prospect of a fight. The
speed was frightening. Weston barked sharp orders and a couple of men cleared a
path with a protective wall of muscle, edging her toward a door.

But those men took a brutal beating. They gave as good as
they got, but they were hampered by trying to maintain a circle around her. She
fought claustrophobia as bodies pressed closer. Half of the men grinned while exchanging
blows as if they enjoyed the chance to brawl.

Fear faded as adrenaline kicked in, keeping her ready to act.
Most of the shifters stayed human, although she did see some of the wolves bulked
up, their fingers more claws than hands as they slashed their way through the
crowd.

Then one man in her group went down, and the protective
circle became a line. Her back was exposed. The fighting grew closer. Bodies
slammed into one another, growls echoed in the room, their human throats
producing eerie, animal like sounds.

When she turned, it was in time to see an arm swing back. An
elbow rammed the bridge of her cheekbone hard enough for her eyes to water.
Vision blurred, vulnerable in the mass of bodies, she did the only thing she could.

She dropped to her knees and scuttled toward the door. The
few men who threatened to step on her received a little jab from her knife for
their trouble.

Then her whole body chilled, a familiar sensation that had
kept her alive the last couple of weeks while on the run. Something was coming
fast. It was heading in her direction, but no one else seemed to notice.

A deep-throated roar resounded in the hallway, a battle cry
that warned everyone in the vicinity that the alpha was not happy, and they’d better
start running.

* * *

Merrick watched the door to his office, not hearing a word
anyone said as he half-expected Trina to burst into the room. He hated that he’d
been forced to leave her alone with only her guard.