Dark Veil (24 page)

The
Human
grinned as Patterson turned away, raising the gun to Gemma’s head. Gemma reacted without thinking, leaping for him.

A loud bang sent her ears ringing and something punched into her side.

She fell back, stunned.

When she tried to get up, she found that her limbs were lead. She touched her fingers to her side, and they came away with blood.

She’d been shot.

The
Human
raised the gun again.

Chapter Thirty

“We take the half-breed, too.” Patterson’s voice reverberated in Phoenix's ears as he lay there with his eyes open, still struggling to move and breathe. His eyes were on Gemma, who lay crumpled on the ground near him, blinking heavily as the silver the
Human
had shot her with invaded her body. He wanted to reach out to her, but his limbs were leaden, refusing to function.

“She’s not going to give you any trouble.” The doctor’s scent gave away his fear even as he uttered those words. He crouched down and pressed a hand to Gemma’s throat. “You should be able to move her now, too.” The doctor peered down at her and ran a hand through her hair the way a lover might do.

Fury burned inside Phoenix. Something protective rose up in his own
wolf
at the sight of another man touching her.

She was Cade’s.

The
Humans
came prepared—they brought in stretchers like the one they had strapped Phoenix to earlier. As soon as they had loaded him onto his, the doctor began to poke and prod at the wounds on his chest, making Phoenix wince and grit his teeth. “It truly is amazing how fast he heals,” he murmured to Patterson, “but you could have killed him.”

“But I didn’t.”

The doctor shook his head in disapproval before spreading his fingers along Phoenix’s chest to inspect the burning claw marks Janie had caused. “I’d give him an hour and you won’t know anything had happened to him.”

“An hour?”

The doctor nodded. “When I said that these half-breeds have such power, I meant it.” He leaned over Phoenix and pulled a penlight out of his top pocket. He pushed Phoenix’s eyelids open and shone the bright light into his pupils, sending shards of pain shooting through Phoenix’s head. “It’s amazing.” The doctor pulled the chest strap across him gently, preparing to tie him to the stretcher. The
Human
next to him shoved him out of the way, however, and pulled tight.

Phoenix bit down on his tongue and swallowed his scream.

“It’ll fuse with his skin,” the doctor protested.

The
Human
shrugged, unperturbed. “He’ll heal from that, too.” They lifted Gemma next, placing her on her own stretcher. Her straps were different—silver—and wrapped around her ankles and wrists, as well as her throat. But she was out cold now, her face grey and mottled from the silver surging through her body. Phoenix’s
wolf
desperately needed her touch, craved it, the same way it did sometimes when Cade was around. This need inside was the oddest of things. Sometimes, if Cade was gone for a while because of work, Phoenix could hardly focus on anything, like part of him was missing. His
wolf
would stir in the background, waiting. Stephen and Gemma seemed to calm the
wolf
, the four of them seeming to share some unique link he wouldn’t ever be able to explain. When he was with them, he was home. 

Phoenix let his eyes close. Wherever they were going, whatever it was that these
Humans
had planned, he couldn’t fight them while his chest was torn open. He let his mind wander to the white room, the one where he met Cade. Except Cade wasn’t there. The empty room reminded him of a secure, sterile room of a psychiatric ward—nothing to do, nothing to hurt himself with.

Something yellow and orange and small suddenly flashed in the corner.

Phoenix’s heart lurched.

Sage.

His eyes shot open, half-afraid the
Humans
knew what he had just seen. The silent fog in his mind fell away and he found himself still on the stretcher in the back of a van, Gemma strapped down beside him. His skin prickled with the familiar itch, but it wasn’t that time yet. He had shifted with Stephen, so there was no reason for his change to demand in this way—yet he couldn’t deny it. It ran up his back and between his shoulder blades.

He turned his head as much as he could and spotted the witch sitting on a seat at the end of his stretcher. The man with the gun was sitting across from her, and between them was the small black cage that held the girl. She lay perfectly still, back to girl now. Phoenix couldn’t see her properly, but there was no orange fur—all he saw was pale flesh.

He closed his eyes again and called out to her in his mind. “Sage. Sage, can you hear me?”

The white room shifted, tilted like some kind of haunted house with the mirrors that make a person seem too tall or too fat. The girl was strong in his mind—it was her who was tilting the room, he realised in shock. He wore jeans and a shirt, but his feet were bare as he padded lightly in her direction. “Sage?” he whispered again, gently so as not to scare her away.

Her
tiger
—so small, so tiny—sat huddled but alert in the corner. Phoenix lowered himself to his knees, his wounds non-existent in his mind.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised. “My name is Phoenix. You know me from outside?”

The
tiger’s
head lowered to the ground, tucking her tail slinking between her legs, caught between fear and the need to protect herself. She watched him with large, green eyes as he slid closer. She stayed vigilant but didn’t move away, though.

His eyes fluttered open, his body alive with the itch. It had spread to his legs and arms and now ran through every part of him.

Realisation struck hard.

This wasn’t him, this was her—he had found her hunger. He forced his eyes closed again, keeping them tightly shut. The cub hissed at him and let off a warning growl, but he reached a hand out to her anyway. Dominance, that was what Stephen always said. No matter how scared you are, no matter how much you want to run the fuck away, don’t. You stand there and burn in the fire if you have to, but never back down.

His hand inched closer and the cub backed up slowly, its fur sticking up and its hiss growing louder. Phoenix stared her right in the eye. “Come out,” he urged.

An almost audible snap echoed in his ears as their minds made some kind of connection. Had the
Humans
heard it? His heart pounded loudly in his chest. Yet, when he opened his eyes, the van was moving and everyone was quiet. The witch stared out of the back window and the man sat staring lasciviously at Gemma, gun resting in his lap. But the girl was awake—Phoenix could feel her presence. Had they just bonded? Was that what it was?

His skin burned with the itch, but he forced his mind to ignore it. The girl slammed into the side of the cage suddenly, making the witch and the
Human
jump.

“What the fuck,” the man said, springing up from his seat.

Phoenix pulled against the binds that held him down. Stupid
Humans
actually thought this could hold him down. The fabric around him ripped as he thrust every last bit of strength he had into his arms, causing the bind around them to snap. In one swift move, he reached down to the cage door and quickly pulled the catch.

The witch and the
Human
stood as best they could, but Sage lunged from the small cage, madness in her eyes. The hunger had her, vast and deep, the way it had got Phoenix the day when he had killed that boy and protected himself. He called to her
tiger
, and Sage leapt onto Phoenix, curling up in a very feminine pose. Though she was still girl, the hiss that came from her was inhuman.

Phoenix held her in the white room and fuelled everything that was inside her, pushed her. “Go, Sage. Go.” He gritted his teeth in real life as well as in his mind, giving her every ounce of strength and hunger that he had inside him. She leapt from his lap, and something banged. Phoenix knew that the
Human
had shot at her.

Idiot
.

The silver would do nothing.

Phoenix hastily pulled at the strap across his chest, snapping it. A scream echoed in the back of the van, the sound bone-chilling. Something thick and wet landed beside him—the lifeless body of the
Human
, his face half bitten off.

The witch had gripped Sage around her waist, fighting to keep her away. But her hands were somewhere in transition and she slashed deformed paws at the witch. She slipped from Janie’s grasp and Janie twisted her hand in a fluid motion, muttering incantations. But Sage was too fast. She was on Janie in a heartbeat.

Janie held her back, making it hard for her to cast a spell when she was using her hands to defend herself. Sage was just six—her paws didn’t go far. Blood dripped from her mouth and down her chest, her hair matted with it. Phoenix leaned over to Gemma and unsnapped the silver binds that held her in place. Where they touched her flesh, her skin was red and sticky—it had been burnt away.

The van swerved suddenly. They were going fast, probably on the motorway. Phoenix crawled over the
Human
to Sage and wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her to him. The witch scrambled back to the door of the van, her eyes fixed on Sage as she continued to chant.

“Shhhhh,” he soothed her, calming her. She hissed in his arms, her cub-like roar echoing in the confines of the van. Janie lifted her hands to cast.

“Don’t,” Phoenix warned her. “Or I’ll drop her right on you. You get them to stop this van.”

Janie laughed, an evil sound. “No.”

“Get them to stop it.”

The witch continued to smile as she chanted. Phoenix stood up, and his head hit the top of the van. He held Sage to him tightly, clinging to her, and then he raised his foot and smacked it into the double doors at the back of the van. They swung open with a thump.

“Get out,” he growled.

She lifted her eyebrows mockingly. “Why don’t you rather?”

The trolley that had held Phoenix lurched suddenly, smashing into the side of the witch with force. She reached out to latch onto something, but the trolley hit her again and she fell. Phoenix didn’t look away as she hit the tarmac and bounced and rolled, leaving a trail of blood on the fast-moving ground of the motorway as it sped away from them. 

The trolley followed and Gemma lurched. She fell forward, weak, and Phoenix rushed to her, Sage still in his arms, and caught her before she went out, too. He took them all to the floor of the van and held them both tightly in his arms.

“Thank you,” she whispered against him, clutching at him.

The van swerved to the side, pulling onto the hard shoulder, and Phoenix wasted no time dragging Gemma out before the front doors opened and the van pulled to a total stop. The Doctor, the other
Human
and Patterson all came running around the back.

Gemma picked the gun up and aimed it straight at an unpleasantly surprised Patterson, who quickly jumped behind the doctor.

“Silver might not kill you,” she said hoarsely, “but it’s still a bullet.”

The room was dark, save for the light that spilt out from the small lamp in the corner on the dresser. Gemma tried to roll onto her back but winced as pain lanced through her entire body. The dull ache in her stomach filled her with fear and she froze.

Her baby
.

Her hand shot to her flat abdomen, trepidation pervading her every cell. A lump rose in her throat, and she whispered a silent prayer. It
had
to be okay … She didn’t even want to think about it not being.

The life was still in there—she could sense it. Warm and comforting, it filled her with peace.

Would it be a boy or a girl?
Tiger
or
wolf
? Would it look like her or Cade? Whose eyes would it have? Whose hair? The questions raced through her mind, leaving her a little giddy and breathless.

So many things.

Did all mothers-to-be have thoughts like this? Going over and over all the could-bes and would-bes, and everything in between that might go wrong. Did they spend their time dreaming of the life that slowly grew inside?

When she was awake, it was all she could think about. Even if her mind drifted to something else, it would snap right back again to all the hopes and the promises. The hard part was in sleep, where her fears grew and monstrous images crawled into her dreams—things that she didn’t want to see. Could just imagining them make them happen? What kind of mother was she that she could imagine such horrible things happening to her unborn child? In her dreams, she saw deformities, a sick baby who died in her arms. She saw a lifeless child, heard her own screams, but no one ever stopped to help her. Her mind constantly flitted between this place of limbo and these horrific dreams.

She let out an audible breath and something moved. She tensed—someone else was in the room with her. A familiar musky scent filled her senses and her heart skipped a beat. 

Cade
.

He was there.

Worried she might be dreaming, she whispered tentatively, “Cade?”

The bed shifted and dipped. “I’m right here.” Her breath hitched, his deep, quiet voice a balm to her frayed nerves. She reached for him, suddenly desperate for his touch, her calmness nothing but a fleeting memory as a craving roused deep inside. “I’m right here,” he reassured her gently, catching her hand in his and lacing his fingers through hers. He brought his face close to hers, so close that she could feel his breath against her face—a mixture of coffee and whiskey. The scent ignited her need even more, a part of her calling to him, starving. Her fingers tightened around his and a small sob tore from her—she thought she’d never see him again, never touch him or smell him. She tugged at his hand, trying to pull him down and he immediately leaned in close, bracing a hand above her head.

“I’m here, Gem.” She lifted her arm so that she could wrap it around the back of his neck, but pain speared through her, red and hot. It burnt with a fury and she whimpered, the torn muscles from where she had been shot still not fully healed. “Don’t try to move.” But she couldn’t help it. He was so close, but she wanted closer. She pulled herself up, an overwhelming need to feel him against her. She wanted to be in his arms. She wanted every part of him. Her
tiger
had awoken and she was demanding and determined. She didn’t care about the pain—all she cared about was Cade. She called to his
wolf
, called to her mate.

Her mate
…

No one else’s. Not the Castle woman’s. Not anyone’s. He was hers. Gemma turned her head and their mouths met in a tender kiss. Warm lips pressed against hers, kissing her so deeply that her mind threatened to fall away and lose itself.

“Cade,” she breathed.

He leaned into her, the stubble along his jaw grazing her cheek as he buried his face in her shoulder. His breath was warm against her bare skin and he clung to her with a need that matched her own.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” she sobbed after a long moment. “I thought they would kill us. I …”

“It’s okay,” he soothed her, a muscle working in his jaw. “It’s all over … you’re here with me now. I’m never letting you go.” His voice was laced with a vehemence that promised retribution.

“They shot me … with silver.” She pulled back so that she could look at him without letting him go. “The baby …”

Cade reached up and brushed a stray hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “The baby is okay.” His hand trailed around and gently cupped her face.

She wanted to believe that. She really did. She turned her face into his palm and breathed him in deep.

“Do you promise?” she asked, her eyes searching his desperately, looking for any hint of a lie, and hoping to find none.

His hand slide down her body, his touch electrifying as it travelled down her bare skin. All she wore was her underwear and every nerve in her body came to life from his touch alone. He stopped when he reached her abdomen, warmth seeping into her skin as his large hand spread over the smooth expanse if skin. God, how she had missed his touch.

“I promise,” he said. “You’ve been asleep a few days, you know? The doctor says that the baby is absolutely fine.”

“How can he be sure?”

“Because he is a doctor,” he said, a small smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. When that answer didn’t seem to satisfy her, he added, “They did tests. Something about the hormones and the bloods. I promise the baby is okay.”

She nodded weakly. Cade wouldn’t lie to her. This was his child, too. “How is Phoenix?” The sudden memory of everything that had happened suddenly crashed into her mind.

“He’s fine,” Cade assured her. “He’s healed. He healed pretty fast.”

“He saved my life,” she whispered. “And the girl’s.”

“Sage.”

Gemma nodded and bit down on her lip. She’d taken that little girl’s life away, perhaps taken her away from her family, her race. She would be wanted by no one now, and it was all her fault. “I had to …”

Cade touched a finger to Gemma’s lips. “Phoenix told us. It’s okay.”

“I took her life away. Is she okay? Did she … make it?”

“She’s with your mum. It’s early days still. But she’s giving her some of that gunk she gives to Phoenix.”

“But long term?” Gemma wasn’t so sure she wanted to know. It had been a fight to keep Phoenix, one that was still very much ongoing. How would Trevor take to a second half-breed in his Society? But he was a fool. She had seen the things that Phoenix was capable of. He had strength that they only dreamt about.

“I don’t know,” Cade said. “No one has talked about it yet.” Maybe that wasn’t so bad, Gemma thought to herself. At least it wasn’t that she was being thrown out.

“What happened to Patterson? It’s all such a blur.” Every time she tried to bring the
Humans
to mind, all she saw was the witch and the way she had rolled onto the tarmac, streaking it with blood. That part had imprinted itself in her mind and refused to let her see anything else.

“He’s at his house.” Underlying anger edged his words.

“What?” She shot up, then groaned at the jolt of pain.

Cade pushed her back down gently. “Shh, take it easy.”

“How? After what he did, how can he be at home?”

Cade clenched his jaw. “DSA verses the
Humans
,” he said pejoratively. “Stephen met a witch at Patterson’s house—Anika.  Bastard had her name on everything.”

“Everything? But it wasn’t her ...”

Cade nodded grimly. “Fucking asshole pinned the shit on her and the other witch. Claimed they were in cahoots.”

When Cade frowned and looked away, she touched his arm gently. “What is it?”

“Anika …” he said quietly. “She’s like Sage. They took her when she was little and raped her mind. They took her, bred her and set her the hell up all so they could gain control. That’s all this shit is.”

Of course it was. That was the only reason
Humans
hated
Others
, because quite frankly, they couldn’t control them—not if it ever came down to it. Not if
Others
ever got truly pissed and went against them. The
Humans
would be wiped out.

“Phoenix told you why they wanted him?”

“A controllable army. The poor witch stands no chance against the
Humans
.”

“Where is she?”

“House arrest. Apparently, she lives with some
Human
… a Marcus.” He lowered his voice. “If she is found guilty, they’ll execute her.”

Gemma stared at him for a long minute, a million thoughts zooming through her mind. “We’ve got to leave this place, haven’t we?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah, we do.” He reached down to pick up a white envelope from the floor and place it on Gemma’s lap—it bulged from whatever was in there.

A light tapping on the door made Cade squeeze her hand before leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead. “Your father has been worried, like everyone else. He has been waiting to see you.” Her heart pounded in her ears at the sudden empty space Cade left as he stood up to open the door. She stuffed the envelope under the sheet as Malcolm walked in.

“I heard you were awake,” he said. Heard her awake? How much had he heard? He turned to Cade. “Can we have a few moments? I think Stephen needs a hand with something out back.”

Cade glanced back at Gemma, a fiercely protective expression on his face. “I’ll just be outside.”

When Cade was gone and her father was sure that he was far enough away, he sat down on the end of Gemma’s bed. It had been years since he had done that. She hardly remembered when it was or if it had even happened at all. The father she had had long ago was not the father she had now. He had hardened with the years as their leader, becoming more alpha with every moment that passed, but right in that moment, as he sat at the end of her bed, he looked like the man she remembered.

“I know about the baby.”

Gemma’s eyes widened. “I …”

He raised his hand to silence her. “Your mum knows, too. No one else.”

She tensed herself, ready for what was coming next. If he mentioned execution order and Cade, she was out of there. Alpha or father, it wouldn’t matter.

“I have to make hard decisions sometimes,” he sighed, turning his head to look at her. “Some of them people don’t like. Sometimes people don’t understand them, but I do them always with the good of my people in mind. Not just the
tigers
, but for all
Others
—for all of Society.”

Gemma nodded but said nothing, waiting with dread for what was next.

“Mixing breeds is against the rules that we have set down, and as alpha and Council and Society leader, it is my job to enforce those rules, no matter who is on the receiving end. It is not my place to discriminate.”

Gemma swallowed, her fingers gripping the bedsheets.

Malcom leaned forward and clasped his hands together. Normally, he was so hard to read, but tonight, his face was almost animated with emotion. “However,” he said, “I am also a father.” His eyes met hers. “I swore that I would protect my children always. Sometimes my roles clash, and it leaves me not knowing what to do.”

“What will you decide?” she asked cautiously.

Gemma wasn’t sure what she had expected, but Malcom twisting around from where he sat, and wrapping his arms around her to pull her close, was the last thing that she imagined.  For a long moment, he just held her.

When he finally let her go, he stood up and straightened his suit—and with it, his expression. “Your mother wants to see you, as well.”

Gemma nodded, but said nothing as Malcolm left the room. The door closed behind him with a soft click and Gemma thumbed the envelope Cade had left her. She bit down on her lip as she turned it over and unstuck the seal.

Inside were papers—three of them.

She opened them up and gasped.

Their tickets to Exile.

The End