Chapter 8
Eight
The boundary wards surrounding the Outcast pack house allow all of us in the car through unimpeded, but they give the cu-sith some trouble.
I turn around to shake my head at the beast as he paces the mouth of the drive behind us, trying to strongly suggest he not tear through the layers of essence stopping him from following.
But even if the cu-sith saw and understood my caution, I’m not certain he’ll heed my directive.
“Shouldn’t we be sneaking in?” DeVille asks. “We did that the other times we visited Bellamy, like through the tunnels connecting the house to the utility building.”
‘Utility building’ is an interesting euphemism for the garage that I assume also masquerades as a command center, featuring holding cells designed to contain shifters — and currently holding a dire awry.
DeVille has presumably picked up that description from his stepfather, the Outcast. It isn’t unheard of for a shifter pack — whether or not they’re also a motorcycle club — to have such cells in or near their main pack house.
There are plenty of reasons why a shifter might need to be held for their own safety. And for the safety of others.
Bellamy isn’t a shifter, however, and therefore isn’t subject to the Outcast’s laws and regulations — neither the shifter nor the motorcycle club of the same name.
Granted, the null police force can’t handle a dire awry either.
Had he wanted to punish Bellamy for all the shit she pulled against his club and his pack, the Outcast would have handed her over to the Authority.
Which means he’s holding her for another reason. Leverage, maybe. But against who?
“I doubt you snuck anywhere,” I say, quietly reprimanding the teens.
“The runes etched throughout the house, plus the totems set outside it, likely allow the Outcast to stretch his senses across the entire property.” Not to mention that a shifter of the Outcast’s power might be able to track people, especially any shifters bound to him, even beyond that.
“What?” Presh squeaks. “Like, he knows … everything that happens on the property?”
“He knows.”
“Fuck,” DeVille mutters. “But that means —”
The ornately carved, double-wide front door of the large house, its wooden siding graying and unadorned, opens.
The Outcast steps out, flanked by Grinder and another slightly older shifter wearing an Outcast cut.
The three of them, even with Grinder and the other shifter tucked slightly behind the Outcast, are so huge that they block the full doorway behind them and more.
DeVille slams on the brakes, jerking us harshly against our seat belts, though we weren’t rolling up the driveway terribly quickly.
“Ouch, Andy!” Presh cries.
“You said you wouldn’t call me that anymore!” he snaps, not taking his eyes off the three imposing, leather-clad shifters awaiting our arrival.
“That’s what you’re concerned about right now?” she growls back at him.
I open the car door, stepping out.
DeVille shuts off the engine, hastily following me. Presh slips out behind him.
I pause a few feet away from the trio of shifters, offering Grinder a grin. “I understand I owe Pinky a thank you.”
Grinder doesn’t smile back, but he’s not unfriendly either. Just serious. The gray in his dark hair and beard, both clipped short, is stark against his dark skin. “That was a debt owed, Conduit. And more than willingly paid.”
I settle my gaze on the Outcast. “It was a risk.”
Grinder huffs doubtfully, but it’s the ire flitting across the Outcast’s expression that I’m watching for. I need to know how to handle him — both in this specific moment and in our relationship beyond this.
“Whatever the Outcast MC could do to secure your safety, Conduit,” the Outcast says, standing tall and stiff but without his cane, “it was gladly done.” His starburst eyes, scarred from when my aunt rejected his soul bond, I now believe, catch in the sunlight for a moment before they settle on me.
I hum, allowing just a little of my disbelief to filter through.
I don’t believe that the Outcast had anything to do with the favor Pinky called in for me when she reached out to her former sister-in-law, Angie, and through her, Jewels.
The elder shifter might not have even known about that series of conversations until after the fact.
As a mage, and even with her connection to Grinder, Pinky isn’t tied to the Outcast as tightly as a shifter of his pack would be.
I don’t quite understand my own uneasiness regarding my soul-bound mates’ uncle.
It might be the rejected soul bond with my aunt that I’m subconsciously picking up that irks my senses.
It might be all the lies he fed my mates, confirming my apparent death thirteen years before even though he had to know I was still alive.
Either way, the two of us stare at each other for a long moment. Then I deliberately close my eyes and tip my head back to just breathe. “The air here is different,” I murmur truthfully. “Replenishing.”
“You’re always welcome to walk my woods,” the Outcast says formally, though he’s not doing a great job of hiding his frustration.
I settle my gaze on the third shifter. He’s bearded like Grinder, but slimmer and pale skinned.
Gray eyes, I think. A predator of some kind in his beast form, but not a wolf.
Not really wanting to play dominance games, but feeling forced to make it clear that I’m not the Outcast’s to command, I address him.
“We haven’t met,” I say evenly. “Yet you stand against me.”
“Reed is a lieutenant of the Outcast,” the Outcast says. “He stands with me, not against you.”
Reed as a club name seems oddly simple, but it might speak to his beast more than his position in the club. I grin at the Outcast, totally calling him on his bullshit. “Bellamy is under my protection. I shouldn’t have to repeat that.”
Grinder looks to the Outcast sharply, as if that’s news to him.
The Outcast half-heartedly raises one hand, but placating his lieutenant, not me. “Precious was distressed —”
“I told you, Uncle.” Presh presses up against me, barely raising her voice. “And … you … you would have locked me up too. You tried, even. You even tried to keep me from … from my soul-bound mate.”
The almost-whispered accusation hits the Outcast like an actual blow. His shoulders stiffen, absorbing it. It’s also the first time I’ve heard Presh acknowledge the bond between her and DeVille.
“And I belong to Zaya, too,” Presh adds unnecessarily.
“What?” Grinder asks, speaking before I can.
The Outcast shakes his head. “Once you clarified —”
“DeVille was sick for days!” Presh cries. “The sabertooth went crazy. He told you that Zaya commanded him to stay with me, like … like … a blessing, even. That we would be safe together. DeVille told you … he told you that we belong to each other.”
“I will not have my decisions countermanded by children,” the Outcast says. “Or dictated by …” His attention shifts to me as he rapidly rethinks what he was about to say. “This is a delicate balance, Zaya —”
“Conduit,” I say, correcting him.
He clenches his teeth, inhaling and then nodding to acknowledge my correction. “The previous Conduit allowed me to —”
“I’m not your soul-bound mate, Ari,” I say. “Rejected bonds or not. I harbor no guilt you can exploit, or lingering feelings that —”
“How dare you,” the Outcast snarls. “You’re just a child yourself. You know nothing of what came before —”
“Outcast,” Grinder snaps, trying to redirect his club president. Unsuccessfully.
“This is my territory. You’ve already taken my chosen heirs for your own, fine. But I won’t have awry walking free, rampaging through my lands …”
Presh shifts away from me slightly. DeVille instantly reaches for her. “No,” she says to him quietly. “Let me stand on my own. Just for a moment.”
DeVille clenches his fists. But he withdraws, swallowing harshly.
Presh just stands there, slightly apart from us and holding the Outcast’s gaze. With her eyes now clearly purple and her essence shifting restlessly around her. No audible words pass between them.
The Outcast takes a deep breath as if to speak. But then his eyes widen, peering at something over our heads.
The cu-sith steps through the boundary wards at the top of the driveway. Reck always had free passage to come and go, so it’s an easy guess that the beast figured out how to tap into that. But the Outcast looks momentarily horrified.
Grinder’s gaze falls on me, looking for any concern I might be showing. He relaxes at whatever he reads in my expression. Reed stumbles back, though, calling forth his essence in anticipation of transforming into his own beast.
The cu-sith silently pads up behind us, pausing only when his chest is pressed against my back and his head is above my own. Presh reaches a shaking hand for the beast’s shoulder, then buries her fingers in his thick green fur. DeVille takes the opportunity to shift closer to the young awry.
“All of Oso’s children are tied to me,” I say to the Outcast. Or maybe it’s an outright claiming voiced to the universe in general.
“By the universe or through some connection that still existed between Oso and Disa.” I tilt my head, as if a thought has just occurred to me.
“I wonder, Ari, if the same holds true for your children. Twins, yes? Is that why you’ve kept them away whenever I might drop in for a visit? ”
Almost shaking in frustrated rage, the Outcast opens his mouth. Then his gaze shifts up to the cu-sith, and he closes it.
“What did you think would happen when Disa died?” I ask, almost kindly.
He closes his eyes for a moment, then whispers, “I assumed I’d go before her.”
“You haven’t,” I say. “And now you’ll need to deal with me. But don’t worry, I assume Rath will be our official liaison.”
The Outcast grimaces, gaze flicking to the cu-sith. “That beast is in control, not Reck.”