OmegaMine (32 page)

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Authors: Aline Hunter

BOOK: OmegaMine
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“But he’s an Omega,” Brian remarked cautiously.

“So is Ewan McCormick,” Kinsley said, taking slow,
intentional strides into the room. “He manages the jaguar pride in New Orleans
and resides over the packs in the vicinity. A shifter can be an Omega and the
Alpha of a pack. If Diskant is willing to take on the responsibility, it is
possible to do both.”

“Do you honestly think he’ll consider it?” Nathan asked.

“Yes, I do,” Trey answered. “He’ll want to make as stable
and safe an environment as he can for his mate. There is no better way than to
call on the power of a pack.”

“Unless he decides to move to Alaska where they can’t be
tracked,” Nathan countered.

“How about you discuss the situation with me instead of
taking bets on what I will or won’t do?” Diskant appeared at the top of the
stairs, dressed in nothing more than blue jeans and a grim smirk, his mate
standing at his side.

Trey watched him descend the stairs with the blonde pixie.
Diskant’s gaze darted to the Shepherd strapped to a chair, the bandage
obscuring his stumped wrist bright red with blood, and for a moment his eyes
shifted gold—revealing the wolf. He stopped several feet away and stared at the
man, saying nothing, just watching him with a hunter’s eyes. Trey could
understand the impulse he was experiencing. Setting the asshole loose and
giving chase appealed to him as well but that couldn’t happen.

Not yet.

“I should torture you slowly, you know,” Diskant finally
said, tone menacing, moving closer as Ava remained rooted to the spot.
“Considering what you are and what you to do our kind, I’m sure you’re aware of
how long you can keep someone alive if you really want to. There are so many
ways we can stretch the misery out. Maybe we could start simple, by breaking
your fingers at the knuckles. We’d reset them, of course, so that we could do
it all over again. Or maybe we could get a few needles from the tattoo shop
Brian owns. I’ve always wondered how badly it hurts when your cock is pierced
like a fucking pin cushion.”

The man remained silent and harsh lines appeared around his
mouth as he forced his lips together, as if he knew he’d give over the goods if
the punishment for remaining silent was brutal enough. It was a damn shame the
son of a bitch couldn’t be told that he would be tortured regardless of his
cooperation, his pain used as a balm to nourish and solidify the bonds of the
pack. When this was all said and done, he would be provided the opportunity to
flee, a fucking sheep amidst a pack of wolves. They would hunt him. They would
track him. And when they found him they would take him down as a group,
feasting on his blood while ripping him apart piece by piece.

“Nothing to say?” Diskant asked. “That’s all right. We’ll
get there. We have all the time in the world.” Bending at the waist, he pressed
into the man’s space, forcing him to move his head back or risk bumping noses.
“You’ve gone and fucked with the wrong pack, Shepherd.”

“Is that a yes?” Trey asked, stepping closer. “You’ll
ascend?”

Diskant snarled into the face of the man in front of him,
his teeth no longer human but wolf, the canines large, sharp and prominent.
“I’ll deal with you soon,” he promised. His features returned to normal as he
moved away from the bound man and stared at Trey.

There was an enormity of pain in his eyes but there was also
something else. Something that removed the sickening weight in the pit of
Trey’s stomach, providing the first semblance of relief he’d experienced since
he’d made the decision to hunt each and every Shepherd down until they’d never
threaten another shifter.

“Ava mine,” Diskant’s voice changed as he addressed his
mate, leaving Trey’s question unanswered. “Come here.”

She padded over to him, her bare feet silent on the carpet,
and stopped at his side. Her focus was entirely on the Shepherd now, a visible
crease marring her brow. The Shepherd’s expression suddenly changed. His eyes
became cloudy and his facial muscles relaxed. It was as if he’d been given a
strong drug of some kind, erasing all the worry, doubt and fear evident in his
expression.

Ava unexpectedly brought her right hand to her mouth, her
index finger and thumb resting on each side of her nose, and closed her eyes.
Even from where he stood, Trey could see that she was trembling. Diskant placed
his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers able to encompass the entire
circumference of her throat. She took several deep breaths before she opened
her eyes and moved her hand until her fingers rested over his.

“They wanted to take out as many of you as they could.” Her
voice was quaking and Trey could scent the tangy smell of anxiety and fear
radiating from her skin. “They’ve been planning this for weeks.”

“Planning what?”

She lifted her head and looked at Diskant. “To leave a hole
in the heart of the shifter population by making sure they killed you.”

“Fucking hell,” Diskant murmured and drew her into his arms.

“And Mary?” Emory asked anxiously.

“She’s at her uncle’s ranch.” Ava’s answer was muffled
against Diskant’s chest. “She’s been on lockdown since they found her with
you.”

Ava peered up at Diskant and their gazes met. They remained
that way for several seconds, as if they were communicating in some manner.
Diskant’s face became a mask of fury and outrage.

“Doc,” Diskant growled, never taking his attention from the
tiny blonde who studied him with an increasingly sad expression.

The pack physician moved from his spot behind the bar,
appearing so different from the professional who practiced family medicine in
the human world. His normally tidy appearance was ruined by wrinkled,
bloodstained clothing.

“Boss?” Doc asked as he stopped beside the Shepherd who was
no longer in a daze and gawked at Ava in horror, trembling violently, the smell
of his terror burning in Trey’s nose like Tabasco.

“How long until he bleeds out?”

“A couple hours, maybe more. He’s been slipping into shock
ever since we brought him in.”

“Diskant.” Ava’s voice seemed so out of place, so incredibly
wrong in the violent fury that permeated the room. She rested her fingers on
his cheek. “Don’t be the animal they believe you to be. You’re better than
that.”

Pain flitted across Diskant’s face as he gazed down at his
female and Trey knew that as much as Diskant wanted to give her what she
wanted, he wouldn’t be able to. Pack law dictated revenge and consequence.

“She shouldn’t stay down here, D. It’s too much, too soon,”
Trey spoke up. “Have her take the information we need and go back upstairs.”

Diskant bent over and whispered something in her ear. She
nodded and turned toward the asshole who remained a mystery to them all. As
soon she stepped toward him he started struggling, fists opening and closing as
he attempted to rotate his wrists and free himself from the restraints. His
good eye narrowed, a line of spit seeping past the gag and down his chin. His
words were muffled but his anger was evident, his fury so strong that the pack
started shuffling around the room.

Halfway to the man, Ava stopped. A soft intake of air was
followed by an ominously whispered, “Oh, dear god.”

She gagged and sagged to the floor. Diskant’s much larger
body covered her like a shield as he placed a hand on her lower back and
followed her down. She vomited while on her hands and knees, the retching sound
loud inside the too-quiet room. She continued until the gagging noises vanished
and her heavy breathing replaced them.

Slowly she turned her head, peered past Diskant’s arm and
gazed at the Shepherd. The beautiful enchantress was gone, replaced by a woman
who had clearly seen something so disturbing she couldn’t stomach it. Her
irises shifted color, revealing her bloodbond to the pack for the first time.

“There’s more to it. Isn’t there, Moses?” She struggled to
her feet, shrugging aside Diskant’s hand when he tried to help her.

She walked to the Shepherd without hesitation, placed her
hand across his face as he started to squirm and closed her eyes. It only took
a moment for her to let go and, when she did, she immediately bent at the waist
and dry heaved, using the back of the chair the Shepherd was seated in for
balance.

“Ava?” Diskant went to her again and this time she accepted
his support, leaning into him when he wrapped an arm around her waist. She
swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and stared at the Shepherd, her
sapphire eyes brimming with hate and outrage.

“The shifters in this room aren’t who you should be afraid
of. Not really. They want you dead but they won’t damn you to hell.”

Her words caused the Shepherd to pale but had the opposite
effect on the man across the room. He began rocking his body until the legs of
the chair began to wobble. Brian stepped forward and placed his hand on the
back rail, keeping it in place. Tension built inside the suddenly confining
space until the shifters began to growl in response.

“Tell him, you sorry sack of shit,” she whispered
venomously, glowering at the Shepherd. When he remained silent, she threatened,
“Tell him, or I will.”

Still he remained as he was, refusing to speak, lips firmly
pressed together.

“You know,” she moved from Diskant’s embrace, “I would have
asked them to show you some mercy. Now you’re going to wish you’d done the
right thing while you had the chance.”

She walked toward the man who snarled and struggled in his
chair even as it remained firmly in place. When she finally reached him she
elicited shocked gasps from several of the pack when she reached out and
smoothed a lock of hair away from his forehead, her touch undeservingly gentle.
If her intention was to calm the man, she only made him worse. He jerked from
her hand, pressing as far back as he could.

“Ava,” Diskant ground out, his tone a definite warning.
“What the hell are you doing?”

“Everyone needs to leave,” she said and glanced over her
shoulder to look Diskant in the eye.

Again they stared at each other for several long, agonizing
seconds in that eerie fashion that told Trey they were speaking to each other
somehow. Diskant glanced at the man just out of Ava’s reach before he turned to
study the Shepherd.

Trey started forward but stopped when Diskant shook his
head. “We have a lot to discuss, but not right now.” Diskant gazed at the faces
inside the room. “Everyone, out.”

Kinsley complied without comment, taking the stairs two at a
time, but each wolf shifter in the room stood in a stunned silence, waiting for
Trey’s acquiescence. Diskant might be the Omega but, as their Alpha, Trey’s
order was the one they’d follow.

“D—” Trey started to argue but Diskant cut him short.

“You want me to take your place? Trust me enough to do what
I say without question.”

Damn it.

Trey knew that the decision he made here could make or break
him. Diskant had just staked his place as Alpha, giving Trey an instruction
instead of a request. If he wanted to continue with his plans he had to back
Diskant’s decision in front of the pack, solidifying his faith in the shifter
he’d chosen to lead and protect them.

“You heard the man,” Trey growled in frustration and all of
the pack moved at once. He hiked his thumb in the direction of the stairs and
made sure Diskant was looking at him when he warned, “As soon as your ass comes
upstairs, we’re going to have a nice, long chat.”

“Save us some pizza,” Diskant responded, catching him off
guard, and turned away before Trey could say anything more.

“Fucking smart-ass,” Trey grumbled as he took four long
strides and started climbing the stairs.

 

The pain was incredible, so consuming it was difficult for
Ava to breathe. It wrapped around her, cocooned her and shrouded her in misery.
She continued stroking the forehead of the tortured man in front of her, unable
to bear his grief, and felt her heart break when she glimpsed the fact that no
one had laid a loving hand on him since his wife had died a year before.

His wife—
Andrea
.

The enormity of his loss—a wife and soon-to-be-born
daughter—was equal to that the pack was experiencing, although she knew some
would argue the point. Once she might have agreed that the impact and
devastation was worsened by the sheer number of those who had died, but since
she also knew what it meant to love and need someone so utterly and completely
that it consumed you, she realized they would be wrong. This man had lost the
thing most important to him, as well as a part of him he had never been given
the opportunity to know, to hold, to adore.

“You’d better start explaining.” Diskant tugged her away
from the man and, in the doing, severed the connection between them, forcing
her to grasp Diskant’s arm to keep balanced as he pressed into her space, his
large body brushing against her. “Stop shutting me out. It’s disorienting, and
I don’t like sensing your pain when I don’t understand what’s causing it.”

“I’m sorry, I knew you didn’t want anyone to know that I
could read their thoughts or share yours and I wasn’t sure what to do. This was
too important.” She expelled the words in a rush, keeping her voice low. “I
only sought out the answers you requested, looking into Moses’ mind to see what
they had planned for the shifters, Emory and Mary. I can’t see what I’m not
searching for, and I wouldn’t have thought to look until I started reading
Caden and realized there is so much more involved.”

Instead of answering any more of his questions, Ava opened
the link between them and sagged in his arms as the horrific and heartbreaking
images flashed through her mind.

Once again she smelled the stomach-churning rustiness of
blood, urine, feces and decay. But it was nothing compared to the mental
picture of the heavily pregnant woman who rested upon the floor, coated in the
dried substances, her stomach shredded by what appeared to be raking claw
marks. Her face had matching wounds that ran from her left temple and across,
her nose entirely gone along with her upper lip. And sticking out of one of the
wounds in her abdomen was a clearly visible hand that was tiny yet perfectly
formed…

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