Chapter 11 Caz
CHAPTER 11
CAZ
“I told you not to fucking contact me like this.”
Caz walked into the clearing in front of the old abandoned building, feeling the fury that had been building up
in him through his whole walk in the woods. His anger had been one of the things he’d worked hardest on controlling through the years. Once upon a time, in a different life, it had gotten him in trouble more times than he had fingers. The only thing that had seemed to help had been two very different kinds of arts—one discipline where he stayed in one place and worked on his canvas, and one where he was constantly in motion and mixing martial techniques. He practiced regularly at one of the gyms in town, glad to be able to continue and get his aggression out somewhere so he could focus on the target.
The mist that had begun to seep into the woods since morning had completely covered the ground in thick white fog, the moisture seeping into his pants. The abandoned building had once been some kind of place of worship. He had stumbled upon it two years ago, completely off the beaten path and so deep in the woods that curious students naturally stayed away because of the local legends, most likely fake. No one came here anymore.
It was the perfect meeting location for something clandestine or something nefarious. He hadn’t seen another soul there in the year he’d been at Mortimer.
Mortimer. Fucking Mortimer. He hated the place with every fiber of his being. Yet he had to pretend the opposite every day and it grated even more on his nerves, just ramping up his simmering anger.
As he walked to the center of the clearing, he was annoyed. Annoyed at being pulled away from one of the most intensely arousing moments of his life, a moment he hadn’t expected—neither her panic nor her response to his touch. Seeing her shaking against the door had almost made him want to turn her around and see the emotion in her eyes, see something there other than disdain and aloofness, the untouchable air she wrapped around her like a cloak, threatening to freeze anyone who got too close.
He’d tried not to. He had really, really fucking tried. But there she had been, shaking against the door, whimpering in a way he’d never expected her to, shedding her outer skin to show him the stunning insides.
It had gone to his blood like a shot of psychedelic, rushing to his head, his heart, and his cock. He had never been harder than he had been then, against her back as she calmed herself down, and he had never been as mentally stimulated as he was with her.
It was intoxicating.
She was intoxicating.
And all he’d wanted to do had been to capture it, capture her terror, her transformation, her transcendence.
So, yes, he was annoyed.
He was also annoyed at being pulled away from figuring out exactly what the fuck she thought she knew, what and who she’d meant by “they” when she interrogated him. A part of him wanted to ask her but he knew that initiating that conversation would just open a Pandora’s box no one was ready for, least of all her.
So yeah, he was annoyed at the man in the clearing and just life in general.
Eric jumped down from the altar where he’d been sitting tensely, smoking what looked by the stubs on the ground to be his third cigarette.
At Caz’s harsh words, he threw the third one down and put up his hands in an innocent gesture. “I wouldn’t have texted if it wasn’t important. We’ve got some problems, dude.”
Caz exhaled and put his hands on his hips. Eric knew the risk they took every time they met like this, especially given the last few years of history between them. Eric was the only one left alive who knew Caz’s secrets, not a burden Caz was happy to share because he didn’t trust the guy an inch. But it had been a combination of necessary evil, rotten luck, and sheer coincidence that the guy he’d hired to do some shady work online had been the same guy he had a mutual interest with at Mortimer.
The day Eric opened his mouth, as he kept threatening what he was going to do, or put Caz and his goal at risk, was the day he would mysteriously disappear. Caz had zero problems making that happen. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, and it wouldn’t be like this would be the last time either.
“What’s going on?” he asked, mustering up as much patience as he could.
“Baron is looking into you,” Eric told him.
Fuck.
This was serious.
He wasn’t ready yet.
“And you know this how?” Caz demanded, taking a step forward.
“I have bugs at his place,” Eric hurried to inform him. “I keep monitoring them, just to keep our asses covered. There was nothing to be suspicious about. But he got a call last night. I just heard your name and heard him say he’d look into it.”
Fuck, this wasn’t good. Baron was a dicey motherfucker who also happened to be smart. A deadly combination, resourceful as a friend, ugly as a foe.
“There’s more,” Eric continued, as though this wasn’t enough. “He asked someone in the residential block to get him access to Salazar’s room.”
His jaw clenched. “Why her? He was the one who told us she was off-limits.”
Eric swallowed. “Yeah, well, something changed. I don’t know what’s happened, there’s no other activity anywhere in particular. But Baron got the call, and suddenly he got on top of shit.”
Fuck.
She had somehow, knowingly or unknowingly, walked into the lion’s den. Her sister had died and made her immune, and she was about to shatter that to smithereens.
“I’ll take care of it,” he told Eric. He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t get involved. But he had to put a stop to whatever she was doing or she was going to end up being another statistic, or worse, ruin his plans.
He remembered how she had felt against him just moments ago, her hair in his hand and her frame tucked into his. She was so fierce, her icy aura so chilling, that somehow he’d never realized how fucking small she was, how breakable, how easy to shatter. And though he didn’t care otherwise, he couldn’t let anything happen to his muse, not yet, not until he was done with her.
The surge of protectiveness wasn’t surprising, but damn, it was inconvenient. He focused on Eric. “What about my stuff?”
“I’ve got enough firewalls and distractions to buy some time,” Eric admitted. “But it’ll only buy us time, Caz. Baron is a bull when it comes to finding shit, you know that. I can’t stop him indefinitely.”
He knew. But time was all he needed.
“How long can you delay him?” Caz asked, trying to formulate a plan and hit the accelerator on it.
“Maybe a month, two tops.”
Not long enough.
He nodded. “Do what you can. Keep me informed. I’ll figure something else out.”
The other man’s face looked grim. “I know why you’re doing everything you’re doing, but I knew him. He wouldn’t have wanted this for you. Do you think it’s even worth it?”
Caz leveled Eric with a look. “Don’t ask me that again.”
There was no point explaining it to him. Caz had the first time he had asked, and the second, but he’d stopped after the third. He had come to Mortimer with a mission in mind, and he was willing to do whatever it took, sacrifice whatever it took, to get it done.
For that alone, he had joined a group, infiltrated them, and was now doing their bidding, biding his time, just to get answers about someone he had loved and lost. He needed the truth, and to get to it, he would do whatever it took.
Anything else be damned.
The blond man sighed, expecting the reply. “Fine, your funeral. Just know I’ll dip if it blows up in our faces, which, from the way things are going, will happen sooner than later.”
With that, Eric left the clearing and Caz hopped up on the altar, looking up at the darkening sky. There were no stars visible, the moon hidden behind the clouds, and none of it felt inspiring anymore.
Just serpent hair and golden eyes.
But he still kept looking, kept searching, for the one star that always made him feel like he wasn’t alone. One his brother had told him about, one they had watched on many a night in the vast sky on the roof of their childhood home.
What happens when we die?
Little him had asked his older brother once.
Caz touched the left side of his chest, underneath his jacket, and searched for the star again, not finding it anywhere. A pang went through his chest, right where his hand was, right above a tattoo that was both a memory and a promise.
We go up in to the sky and become stars.
It was odd, remembering the innocent little boy he had been, as he sat there, a man cursed. Death, to a young Caz, had been twinkling stars in the sky. He’d never imagined clouds could blink them out of existence.
His phone vibrated and he took it out of his pocket, looking down at the message.
Meeting on Friday. Midnight.
Well, hell.
Baron getting a phone call and now him getting a text.
They were coming to town, for the first time in a year. It seemed like things were getting very interesting.