Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The house that belonged to Pack Kincaid looked abandoned.
It was the first thought Roman had when he and Sidian crested the hill on foot, staying close to the shadows of the trees despite the distinct lack of any faint camera buzz.
The edge of the pack’s property was still a few yards or so inward from where they stood, cloaked in all-black to make use of the moonless night, but Roman knew how paranoid the traffickings packs were.
If the Kincaids made their money standing guard during omega auctions, then it would be as natural as breathing for them to mount cameras in trees they had no legal ownership of.
There were no telltale flashes of tiny red pinpricks amongst the leaves, no signs of vehicles or recent tracks in the dirt path winding around the large Victorian mansion.
The siding was chipped in places and sloughing off in others, revealing the bare wall beneath.
Pieces of the porch railing were broken off and tumbled down into the grass below, which was long, tangled, and unkempt.
A few of the windows bore spiderweb cracks that stretched to the edges of the frames, though two of them on the ground floor had been shattered, the curtains swaying in the cool breeze.
What the fuck was going on?
Sidian made a small noise of confusion at Roman’s side, lifting a pair of binoculars up to his eyes for a better look. Roman could see just fine from where he stood, but the moment Sidian lowered the lenses, Roman held out a hand for them so he could get a better look. This wasn’t right.
There was a hole in the roof. The chimney must have collapsed with stray, broken bricks scattered close enough to the hole to let him know what made the impact.
And there were no signs of life anywhere.
They stood stock-still. Words came and went, fading on Roman’s tongue; he wasn’t sure what to say.
The information the Mambas gave them was supposed to be correct, and when he checked the binoculars one more time, he could see the faded golden numbers on the side of the smashed mailbox that lay on the edge of the yard. The address was correct.
So where the fuck was Pack Kincaid, and what happened to their house?
The likelihood of that information being wrong is almost impossible, he reminded himself amidst the rising panic, eyes darting around the clearing where the Victorian stood.
There was no sign of any other buildings in the area, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t one just because he couldn’t see it from the hilltop.
The safest thing to do would be to scout the area around the perimeter of the property to see if this was a ruse of some kind.
A hidden base wasn’t unusual for criminal packs. For all they knew, it might be underground, which was a problem—
Sidian broke away from Roman before he could think of anything to say, walking straight toward the house. “Come on.”
“Sid!” Roman snatched the back of Sidian’s shirt and reeled him into the shadows, wrapping his arms around his omega as he watched the Victorian. “Don’t go wandering off. They could see us from anywhere.”
Violet eyes met his through the shadows, Sidian’s jaw tightening the longer he stared up at Roman. “You have to be fucking stupid if you think they’re here.”
“This is their address. They have to be here.” Pack Kincaid should have returned home. They had plenty of time to step off the plane, step into whatever cars were waiting for them, and return to their residence. There were no other home ownership records under their names; the Mambas had checked.
But the house was so old, so decrepit. Reality stared Roman straight in the face, but he refused to accept it. The Mambas dealt in information. Would they have lied about something like this?
Sidian wrenched himself out of Roman’s arms and started walking toward the house again, stepping into a patch of grass unprotected by shadow. “Come on, Roman.”
The command in Sidian’s voice had Roman’s feet moving before he could stop himself, and he swore under his breath as he jogged up behind his mate.
It was the prime omega magic he knew Sidian possessed and now understood, and while no other alpha could ever bring Roman to heel, Sidian didn’t even have to try to pull it off.
Roman wondered if their status as mates had anything to do with it.
If they got out of here in one piece, he might look into it one day.
As soon as Sidian reached the mailbox, he gave it one swift kick and sent it skittering across the grass.
Old yellowed envelopes spilled forth, their edges crinkled with age. Some of them were stained with various shades of brown.
Sidian loosed a shuddering breath, scrubbing his hands over his face. “So they’re not here.”
“They have to be here.” Where else would they feel safe if not in their pack house? They had an omega they did not take with them to their auctions, so they had to have somewhere to leave them. None of their profiles had mentioned close family beyond Dax Kincaid’s twin brother.
How could the Mambas have been wrong? They’d been watching the Kincaids, hadn’t they?
Sidian rounded on Roman, his hands slamming into Roman’s chest with surprising force and sending him stumbling back. “Are you fucking blind? They aren’t here!”
“I… I can see that.” But it made little sense. It made no sense.
Up close, there was no denying the level of disrepair the house was in.
Cracked and broken windows, the porch steps sagging, missing boards on the porch itself, along the siding, chunks of railing and frame missing.
There were cobwebs thick across the ceiling of the porch as well, dusty with age.
Unless Roman was blind, there was even moss growing on the porch in a couple of places.
But it was Pack Kincaid’s house. Legally, they owned it and the property attached to it. “This is the only house that was found under any of their names. Where else could they be?”
Sidian laughed and spun away from Roman, throwing his arms wide. “Do you hear that, guys? Why don’t you come out of hiding? Roe says you gotta be here, and his stupid fucking friends couldn’t have made a mistake, so where the fuck are you?”
The shrill tone of his voice set goosebumps rolling down Roman’s spine, his hindbrain insisting he needed to calm his omega down.
But when he reached out to touch him, Sidian slapped his hand away harder than he’d ever struck Roman before.
His slim chest heaved with a harsh breath, his eyes as hard as amethyst stones, sharp enough to cut.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch me," he hissed. "You promised me. You promised me we’d find them, Roman.”
Roman did, and they would, but… Fuck. Fuck.
Pack Kincaid was supposed to be there. The plan was to get as much intel about their house as possible, note their cars, and scope out just enough to get an idea of the safest way to infiltrate.
It was always going to be risky; the breeding center missions were a breeze in comparison.
Centers did not employ alphas, and betas had no sway over alphas, no ability to posture or command that might cause the Vipers any problems. In contrast, Pack Kincaid was much more dangerous, but Roman knew he could do this.
He would do it because Sidian needed him to.
How could this be happening? Where the fuck were they?
Sidian all but jumped up the breaking steps to the porch, opening the storm door before kicking the front door in.
The wood split under the force, and he shouldered his way through the gap with a snarl of irritation that made Roman’s gut churn.
Even if the pack wasn’t here, Sidian needed to be careful.
A house falling apart to that degree was dangerous, and Roman wanted nothing to happen to his omega. Enough already had.
He followed more cautiously and found Sidian standing in what looked like a living room.
The couch, loveseat, and two armchairs were overturned, the fabric moth-eaten and rotting, the entire room smelling of decay.
And Sidian stood in the center, his arms hanging by his sides, his sweet lily scent fading into the rot and ruin all around them.
He let out a slow, ragged breath. “She’s not here.”
“She?” The moment Roman’s fingers brushed his omega’s shoulder, Sidian growled at him, and he dropped his hand. “Sid, who are you—?”
A sharp cackle of laughter ripped the words from Roman’s mouth before he could finish the thought.
“Who am I talking about? That’s what you’re gonna ask, right, Roman?
I’m talking about…” Sidian trailed off, his hands clenching into tight fists.
“Those fucking monsters aren’t here, and they have… They’ve got my…”
A little wheezing breath left Sidian’s lips before he crumpled inward, wrapping his arms around himself. The sharp, keening cry he made echoed through the empty house; something fluttered high above them. Bats in the attic, maybe, disturbed by the mourning sounds spilling from Sidian’s lips.
“I want my baby,” he rasped, swaying on his feet as Roman’s blood iced over. “I want my daughter.”
Sidian didn’t want Roman to touch him, but Roman couldn’t stop himself from reaching out.
What was going on? What baby? What daughter?
What was Sidian talking about? Roman had to touch him, had to help him.
Sidian was his mate, his omega, and no matter what happened, he had to take care of Sidian.
And Goddess, those noises… The last time he heard Sidian cry like that was—
Sidian darted away from his touch, turning to face him in the dusty, molded living room. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you fucking… You said they were here. You said.”
“They’re supposed to be here. This was the address on their profiles. On all of them.” The address on the mailbox was the same. It was their small town. “If the information is wrong, it’s wrong, but we aren’t at the wrong house. Sidian, what were you saying about a daughter?”
Sidian laughed and raked his hands through his hair, his cheeks damp with falling tears as he paced in tight, frantic circles.
“I should have known. Should have fucking known it’d blow up in my face.
Why would I trust you? Why would I believe in you of all people?
If you’d just controlled yourself, I wouldn’t even be in this place. ”
The words struck something deep in Roman’s chest, flaying it open. His lips parted, but no words came to mind. Just shock. Numb, uncertain, disbelieving shock.
And then the cruel, curling flare of guilt that had never left him. Even he knows this is your fault. You were supposed to protect him. You promised.
“Sidian,” Roman tried, but Sidian cut him off again.
“You’re the reason I ended up in that place.
Ended up in that…” He broke off, choking on a sob now, gripping his own arms as he paced faster and faster.
“You’re the one who killed my father and yours, and you got to spend the last two years of your life free while I was locked up in that fucking place.
Do you know what they did to me? Do you know what they did to me? ”
Roman didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t speak. The weight of Sidian’s misery threatened to choke him, phantom fingers around his neck far stronger than his own hands were.
When he took a step forward, Sidian growled at him. “Get the fuck down.”
The wooden floor buckled under the impact of Roman’s knees, but it held. For the moment, it held.
Sidian stopped, trembling hands pressed to his face, his voice breaking on every word as his chest hitched and shuddered. “They took everything from me. They took everything I had left, and then they took Amethyst. They just…”
Amethyst. His daughter. They took his fucking daughter. Roman wanted to speak, wanted to say anything, do anything, but Sidian’s command and the horror of it all gripped him too tight.
“I want my fucking daughter back!”
Sidian screamed, the sound ripping itself out of his chest like something alive and desperate for escape.
He sank to his knees, his hands, limbs shaking with the effort of holding him upright as he screamed and screamed and screamed, the noises cutting Roman open like so many knives.
Every sound of anguish tore at his soul, sinking claws and teeth into him until his vision blurred, until everything ceased to exist but Sidian.
His omega, his mate, who wouldn’t let him help.
Sidian fell quiet after a moment, still sobbing, face hovering over the floor.
Though it almost physically hurt to move, to push back against Sidian’s word, Roman dragged himself over to his omega until he could draw Sidian into his arms, letting him flail, letting Sidian elbow him in the gut, wincing as his face was shoved away.
After a minute or two, Sidian sagged against Roman’s chest, broken noises shuddering from his lips.
“I hate you,” he whispered even as his fingers tangled in Roman’s shirt, twisting so that Roman couldn’t pry him off even if he wanted to. “I hate you so fucking much.”
“I’m sorry.” What else was there to say?
But Sidian just closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Roman’s chest as he hiccuped and whined. Try as he might, Roman couldn’t quite force a rumble to soothe his omega, but he wrapped his arms around Sidian and rocked him back and forth, hoping it would do something for him. Anything for him.
Pack Kincaid had Sidian’s daughter, and Roman did not know where they were.
What was he supposed to do?