Chapter 24
Mark hadn’t been back in this study since his encounter with Bastian.
That name rang in his mind like a bell calling him to action.
Sleep had been a luxury the last few days.
Every time he closed his eyes, he feared that the vampire would find a way to kill him in his sleep.
The few hours he’d managed to succumb to much-needed rest, his nightmares plagued him like never before.
The memory of that night at the club, the only night his nightmares had stayed away, brought sensations to his body he didn’t need.
Not when he was about to see the person who’d aroused those sensations in him.
Thankful for his brother’s immense presence next to him, Mark walked past the threshold, the memory of the door he’d torn apart bringing a tinge of guilt.
He fortified his thoughts from the two Born-Vampires in the room.
Caster’s bodyguard left as soon as they settled into the couch opposite the massive desk Caster sat behind.
Riley leaned against one of the three wall-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the room, the light from the open curtains bathing the room in warm sunshine.
The carpet had been replaced, the scent of bleach lingering from the clean-up that must have been necessary the last time he’d been here.
He dared a glance at Caster, careful not to linger, but all he got was a mask of calm determination.
It was best to avoid focusing on the disappointment his indifference inspired.
“She killed again.” Caster’s words drew his attention, and he couldn’t contain the panic.
“Here?” Dean asked, his voice calmer than Mark expected. Given everything that had happened, his brother was doing a good job of containing his anger.
“That’s the thing…” The urgency in Riley’s voice was in contrast with his casual stance. “In Los Angeles…”
“Which means she may not be here at all?” Dean said.
Riley shook his head. “No. It just means that we don’t know where she is. Her power is sufficient to be used at a distance.”
Mark glanced at Caster again. The calm mask of determination had been replaced by what he could only describe as worry.
His heart raced, and Caster tilted his head to the side.
Mark had forgotten he could hear his heart.
He could do nothing about his body’s physiological response to a threat that seemed to grow larger by the day.
He lowered his gaze to avoid the questions in Caster’s expression.
“There is nothing to fear, though. The house is protected, and Riley hasn’t stopped looking.” Caster’s words were meant to reassure him, and Mark had to fight everything in him to keep from meeting the gaze he could feel.
“I think you need protection,” Riley said.
Dean nodded. “I had assumed we would at some point.”
Mark’s mind escaped Caster’s concern for him for long enough to catch the meaning of Dean’s agreement. “You mean magical protection?” The Werewolf Council would not like it.
He turned to his brother, but Dean was already arguing the point he hadn’t voiced. “It’s the only way. If we’re to get her and everyone involved with her, we need to stay and stay safe.” He caught Mark’s eye, the double-meaning of his words clear, then he glanced at Riley. “Is it safe?”
Riley gave him a curt nod. “It is the same protection spell I have on him,”—he pointed at Caster—“and the rest of the family.”
A second passed, and Dean stood. “Let’s do it.”
Riley pushed off the bookshelf. “I need a few things and your brother. Where is he?”
“I’ll come with you.”
The minute or less it took for Dean to agree and follow Riley out of the room was a blur. By the time he’d accepted the advantage the protection spell would bring, they were gone, and Mark was stuck in the room with the last person he wanted to be close to.
He braced his hands on the couch, ready to move, only to be held captive by the gray eyes he couldn’t forget.
Riley and Dean’s voices, retreating further away from the study, reached a mind consumed by the cracking energy between them.
His breath shortened again, and for the first time since this morning, his wolf made his presence known.
Caster’s lips parted, and he anticipated the question, shaking his head. “You promised you’d never ask me that.”
Caster nodded.
A niggling sense of danger prickled his senses, interrupting his latest attempt to get away from the temptation posed by the vampire staring at him. A warning whine from his wolf permeated his senses, and he shot to his feet, ready for a fight he couldn’t yet see.
“What?” Caster was next to him in a microsecond. “What is it?”
Unsure of how his hand found Caster’s forearm, Mark tightened his hold, dread permeating the space with an intensity that caused his wolf to howl. Dean’s influence on his wolf was torn to shreds by a piercing pain tearing through his skull, and he doubled over.
Caster caught him before he hit the ground.
The intense roar accompanying the pain in his head was followed by a stabbing pain that had him crying out.
His wolf moved further away, the elixir of healing hormones that would counteract the pain retreating with him.
He searched Caster’s worried expression for any assistance.
Caster’s lips moved, but the rush of combined pain and pressure overwhelmed his senses.
His eyes registered Riley’s presence. He too said something, but it dissipated into the pain whose intensity increased by the second.
He called out to Caster as the darkness overtook his senses.
A sense of floating in space invaded his mind, the intense pain he’d experienced only moments earlier replaced by surreal calm.
Then a rush of reality flooded in, and with it, an unfamiliar location.
He looked at Caster, whose tight grip still held him, and he closed his eyes, searching for the pain’s origin.
Calm was all he found. He exhaled his relief, worry replacing it when the flood of comfort he expected from his wolf didn’t come.
He reached past the barrier to find his companion, but he wasn’t there.
As if sensing his distress, or perhaps because he could, Caster drew him into his arms. The initial hesitation dissipated as Mark lost all hope of fighting him.
He closed his eyes and chose to focus on the safety of Caster’s embrace, even if just for the moment.
§
Caster did not want to think about how good Mark felt in his arms. It was in poor taste for his mind to go there, given what had led to this. One moment, he was content to watch him from across the room; the next, something sinister and invisible attacked him. What was going on?
Mark’s breath seeped through their connection to join his, his body trembling in his arms. He tried to put distance between them to see his face, beg him to take even breaths, but Mark held on tighter. Caster squeezed back, communicating his support the only way he could.
“Breathe for me, Mark.” His own voice sounded alien, and although he hadn’t meant it as a command, the werewolf in his arms obeyed without question or hesitation.
Mark drew away from the embrace, and Caster allowed him the distance he needed. He looked around the room and then back at Caster, the question in his mind obvious.
“Riley brought us here.” Caster owned the cabin in the English countryside. It was his hideout when he needed to get away from his often-overcrowded court.
“Where are we?” Mark asked, his voice strong considering the debilitating pain of whatever had attacked him.
“England.”
He nodded, his focus on something else.
“What happened? Can you tell me?”
Mark shook his head, walked to the couch in the small living room, and sat. He stared at the wall for so long, Caster became comfortable in the realization that this may be another thing they wouldn’t talk about.
“Pain out of nowhere. I don’t know…” His voice was a faraway whisper, but the significance of what he tried to convey filled the room nonetheless.
Caster sat in one of the two armchairs furnishing the living room. He wanted more than anything to sit next to him, reassure him, but in the short time he’d known Mark, he’d learned his beautiful wolf was too proud for that.
Mark turned to him, a frown distorting his handsome face. “My brothers?”
“They’re fine. Whatever it was, it seemed to affect only you.”
He reached into his pocket only to be disappointed when he didn’t find what he was looking for. “I need to call Dean.”
Caster nodded and reached into his pocket for his phone. He dialed Dean’s number and handed it to Mark. His entire body was awash with a nervous energy he couldn’t hide from Caster. He longed to still his bouncing leg, but he was certain his attention would not be welcomed.
“Yeah!” Dean’s voice floating through the device was impatient.
“Dean…”
Mark stared at him and then took the phone with him into the kitchen. The unguarded Mark, who seemed to give his trust with little hesitation, was replaced by the secretive werewolf who held back too much.
Caster could have overheard every word if he chose to, but it was best to give the brothers their privacy. Instead, he reached out to Riley. The familiar flood of his friend’s power surged through the mental connection, and for the first time since they’d teleported here, he relaxed.
What was that?
The witch. Riley’s automatic reply made little sense.
The house is protected, how could she...?
I am working on finding that out now. The only thing that makes sense is a talisman of some sort bearing her power.
He frowned. Someone put it there.
Yes. But I don’t know where it is. I will find it before the day is out. Are you OK? Is he?
Yes. Thanks to you. And his brothers?
Whatever this was, it seemed to only be after him. I suggest you stay there until I find out what it is. I’ll send Kyle to you. He’ll be there soon. But I can be there much faster if you need me.
The dissipating sense of his power retreated, and the connection was broken.
The message was clear. They needed to stay here until the threat was gone.
How long that would be was still unclear.
As he sensed Mark’s eyes on him, he resigned to the idea that even a second in such close quarters would be an ordeal.
It was difficult to ignore his need to comfort him and reconcile it with his conviction that Mark didn’t want or need his comfort.