My Forever (23 page)

“You look like shit.”

“Shut up.”

“No really, I’m impressed. For once your physical appearance matches the man you are inside.”

Connor slammed him into the wall and brought his face mere inches from Lucas’. “One more word and I’ll take it out of your pretty little thing’s flesh.”

It was an empty threat, he knew it, but that still didn’t keep his anger from surfacing. Grabbing the front of Connor’s shirt, he spun and smashed the man against the same wall. “Hurt him and I will end your miserable existence.”

“Commander, we’re ready.”

Lucas didn’t move an inch until Connor broke eye contact to acknowledge his second in command. This time Connor took the lead and Lucas followed them to the ground floor where they met with the young recruit, Tailor, and two other Mackaeo.

“There’s been a slight change of plans,” Connor said, pulling a large photograph from a manila envelope one of the men handed to him. “This is the living room I want you to port us to. Once we get there, you’re to stay in this room with Tailor. Miles will bring out the kid and all you have to do is hold him while we take care of his parents. You port us back here and the job is done.”

A chill raced down his spine at the implication of those words. “You want me to port the kid with us?”

“Got a problem with that?”

Lucas kept his face completely impassive as he shook his head. It had never occurred to him that Connor would want to replace the slaves he’d lost at the first opportunity. Stupid. Having Bastian risk his life a second time to port the kid out was too risky. If Connor hadn’t already increased his security, it wouldn’t take him long to figure out what was going on. Mind working furiously, he ported them to the chosen destination then felt Tailor's dampening power take effect.

The decorations and expanse of the living room cried wealth and prestige. It was small wonder they had waited for his particular power to do this mission. A house with this many riches laid out in such blatant display was sure to have a security system even a professional burglar would need mad skills to crack. While some members of the Mackaeo could do it, one little slip could bring the human authorities down on them in mere minutes. With his ability, they were guaranteed safe passage both in and out of the mansion.

Connor led three of his men through the foyer and up a wide staircase to the second floor. Steeling his emotions, Lucas told himself he could get through this. He had to. His only other options were few and final. If he rebelled now, he would be going up against five men, each with a power and he currently without his. Even if Tailor did decide to side with him, these men were as skilled in combat as he, making the chances of walking away very slim.

Success, however, would land him right back where he’d started, only this time Connor’s men wouldn’t be hunting him for his advantageous power. It would be for pride and revenge—two emotions that made for a deadly combination.

Miles returned to the room with a defiant, frightened teenager fighting and struggling against the massive arms that bound him and clamped his mouth shut every step of the way. The kid appeared to be in his late teens, with black curls flopping everywhere and a thin layer of baby fat over abs that had yet to be toned. Dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, it was plain to see where Miles’ fist had landed on his stomach, probably a few times.

When the kid kicked his heel down hard on Miles’ shin, the bigger man yanked him by the throat to an arm’s length away and prepared to land an open-handed slap. Lucas put on a burst of speed and caught the man’s wrist before it could come down.

“I’ll take it from here.”

Miles sneered at his deadly tone but Lucas could see the glimmer of fear in the other man’s eyes. Twisting his arm free, Miles ground out, “Fine, but keep him quiet. I’m going to make sure the commander is finished.”

As Miles walked away, Lucas took the kid’s biceps in both hands and brought him close, meaning to calm him the way he had done with Kyle in the past, but the resemblance was too striking. Underneath the sheen of terror in the kid’s eyes lay a quality of virtue he’d always imagined had once lived inside his mate long ago—before Kyle was betrayed and forced through hardships to become a monster’s slave…just as this child would soon become. How many other kids would he have to sacrifice to keep his mate from the same fate?

None.

This ended now. Kyle’s enduring strength lay in his ability to love and put others above himself. He had to trust in that, in the hope that Kyle would forgive him his death—for after this, it would be inevitable.

Looking deep into the kid’s hazel eyes, he whispered, “I’m going to help you but I need you to stay quiet. Tailor here will look after you until I come back, okay?” When the kid didn’t respond, he gave him a little shake. “Answer me, boy.” That earned him a jerky nod. Leading the quaking form over to Tailor, he pushed the kid into the man’s arms. “Remember what we talked about, Tailor? This is your chance. Lift your power from mine and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“You’re going to kill them? I…I don’t…”

“Tailor, they’re going to make this kid into a slave. You can choose to live with that or redeem yourself. Either way, I’m doing this…with or without your help.”

Tailor looked at the kid and Lucas could see the same resolution that he’d come to, cross the man’s face. Lucas gave him a tight-lipped smile when he felt his power come back to life. He was glad the man was finally willing to stand behind the morals Lucas had glimpsed in him earlier, but he wouldn’t ask Tailor for more. If he failed to kill the others, he didn’t want Tailor to suffer the consequences should Connor find out the man had conspired with him.

“Keep him safe. I’ll be right back.” Porting himself to the top of the stairs, he glanced in both directions. One side of the wide corridor was encased in darkness. The other side consisted of about eight yards of balcony then stretched on to give access to a number of rooms on the left and right. Two men stepped out of one of the nearest rooms carrying a box of files and a black duffel bag. Their eyes widened and mouths opened at the sight of him.

Lucas ported directly behind them and shoved one over the balcony before he could react. The other threw the box in his face and used his power to call down a column of lightning. The heat of it singed his clothes a moment before he teleported a yard in the other direction. Now facing each other, Lucas punched the man in the temple but couldn’t back away in time to avoid the arc of the knife the man pulled from his back and sliced across his chest. The man bounced back from the wall but Lucas gripped the back of his neck in one hand and the knife-wielding wrist in the other.

With brutal vigour, he smashed the man’s face and wrist into the wall, which crumbled under the force. Pounding footsteps coming from the stairwell alerted him to the return of the first man and he swung the fist of the second out to the side. The blade that was still clenched in the hand of the man he held cut cleanly through the first man’s throat, severing the carotid artery with precision. Lucas took advantage of the second man’s shock at killing his friend and twisted his wrist, bringing the blade home deep in the thoracic cavity beneath his sternum.

Wrenching the blade free, he wiped the blood from his face in time to see Miles and Connor exiting a room several doors down. Before he could port, Miles pulled a small blow torch from his belt and lit it. Flames shot out at an impossible distance and engulfed Lucas’ shirt. Searing heat enveloped him and he ported to the foyer, out of Miles’ sight. Ignoring the pain, he ripped the blazing material away and stomped out the fire.

A loud crash sounded behind him and he flicked the knife blindly in that direction, grinning at the sound of a pained grunt. Another softer thump came from his right and Miles was on top of him. They toppled to the ground in a mass of limbs but the other man braced his head in both hands before Lucas could defend himself. Blinding flashes of light sparked behind his lids as his head was bashed into the floor once, twice.

Dimly he heard a shout from somewhere in the distance and one hand left his head for a brief second. Lucas brought up his knee and slammed it into Miles’ groin, dazing the man long enough for him to port out from beneath him. Now at the man’s back, Lucas leant down to grip his skull and chin and twisted sharply, letting go at the satisfying snap of Miles’ neck breaking.

Sudden pain flared in his right breast, bringing him to his knees. A foot hooked underneath his jaw and sent him flying across the floor. Connor pounced on him before he came to a stop, driving the blade deeper into his chest The weight of the knife increased until it felt as though he’d been skewered by a three inch steel pipe.

“I should have screwed your mate while I had the chance. Guess now I’ll never know how sweet it would have been.”

A storm of rage surged through Lucas, igniting his blood and renewing his strength. With a guttural cry, he wrenched the knife from his chest and propelled himself forwards, twisting their bodies so that he straddled Connor’s waist from above.

“Deluc, no!”

In one swift move, he flipped the blade in his hand and slammed it tip first into Connor’s windpipe. “You will never have my mate,” he seethed, watching with maddening rapture as the light faded from the commander’s eyes.

“Master?”

Lucas jumped up and whirled around, ready to do battle with anyone else who dared get in his way. But there was no threat. Recognition was sluggish in coming, and when it did, his fury fled with the breath in his lungs. A sweep of the foyer showed him the destruction caused by his hands. Blood was everywhere, staining the floor and coating him in an obscene layer of gore.

He had never wanted his mate exposed to this side of him, the savage bloodlust that had been trained into him to cultivate the perfect assassin. This was not how it should have been. Afraid to see the revulsion and fear in Kyle’s eyes, he lowered his head, the knife slipping from his numb fingers to clatter to the floor.

The pain in his body flared as a small body collided with his, pushing him back a step as thin yet powerful arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed. Stunned, he stared down at the fragile creature holding him with the ferocity of a lion.

“I love you,” Kyle whispered. Raising his head so that his eyes met Lucas’, he repeated in a stronger voice, “I love you. And if you ever leave me again, I’ll make a trip to hell seem like paradise every day for the next eight hundred years.”

A gust of laughter escaped and he fell to his knees. “You’re an evil, sadistic little man.”

“Damn straight.” Kyle hugged his neck, nearly choking him, but nothing had ever felt better.

Reluctantly pulling away, Lucas met his mate’s shimmering green eyes, seeing only love and happiness in them. “Sweetness, I’m sorry. I know I could have died and killed us both but I couldn’t stand by and let him turn another innocent into a slave.”

“It’s okay. I would have done the same if I had huge muscles and an awesome power. I did do something but…” Kyle peered over his shoulder to the corpse behind him. “You killed Connor. We were too late. It was all for nothing.”

“Maybe not yet,” Bastian spoke up.

Almost at the entrance to the living room, Lucas saw his friend and the kid he’d left in Tailor’s charge huddled over a motionless form. Rising took more effort than he cared to contemplate at that moment, but he clamped onto Kyle’s hand and walked towards them to get a closer look. It was Tailor who lay prone on the floor, eyes glazed over in pain while the kid pressed down on a growing pool of blood seeping from the side of Tailor’s gut.

“What happened?”

In a voice that shook with undisguised terror, the kid stammered out, “He t-tried to get that man off you.” Lucas followed the flick of his gaze to Miles’ body. “He was s-stabbed and I dragged him back here. Is he going to die?”

Lucas peeled the kid’s hands back for a brief second to take a look at the wound then shared a solemn glance with Bastian. From the placement of the wound, it looked as though the knife had pierced Tailor’s liver. There was no way to tell how much damage had been done. Even if they got him into surgery immediately, teleportation would only make it worse. The displacement could have harmful effects on exposed organs and tissue. It was why it was always necessary to close the eyes while travelling.

“I want to confess first. Please.” Tailor’s plea was hardly more than a whisper.

Bastian leaned in close. “I’d have to ‘port you to the Queen. If I do that, your body will fail shortly afterwards.”

A corner of Tailor’s mouth quirked up in a faint grin. “Dying anyway. Please. I have to do this.”

Bastian gathered the limp body in his arms as Lucas took the kid’s hand in his free one. “Close your eyes, boy. We’re going to the Queen’s throne room.”

A heartbeat after the kid obeyed, they appeared in the Queen’s stately chamber and Lucas watched as Bastian laid Tailor on the floor in front of a surprisingly
un
surprised Queen. A Mackaeo member whom he knew to have the power of discerning the truth stood next to her and a small band of young humans stopped eating at a table to the side to stare at Bastian with avid interest.

He was missing something here but an explanation would have to wait until Tailor got out his last confession.

The young Tsielen told everything in short, broken sentences. Apparently, Connor had been enraged when Lucas had turned down his offer and left. Seeking a way to make up for the potential loss of the millions he would have made with Lucas’ help, he’d turned to slavery. Tailor spoke of the abuse the weaker humans had endured under the harsh hands of Connor and his men before being sold to other Tsielen. It was at the end of his confession that his heart stopped beating and Bastian closed his eyes with his fingers.