ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (101 page)

“Yeah, so you said.  This Joe person, is he Afghani too?”

“No.  He’s something like you.”

Vince’s mind flashed to Dakota.  He was tall like you, but tan darker…  “Is he Spanish or Hispanic?” 

The man didn’t seem to understand. 

“Is he Middle Eastern or from somewhere else?” 

“No, he’s Middle Eastern.  Just not Afghani.  But he’s American too, like Aalem.” 

Vince sighed angrily.  “Then why did you say he was something like me?”

The man looked fearful again.  “He’s tan but that’s not it.” 

“What is it?” 

The man looked like he wanted to puke, but he just couldn’t understand why Vince couldn’t understand.  “He’s a wolf man.”

Vince rocked back on his heels.  He glanced at Randy’s still face.  A wolf man. 

“When do you expect the call?”

“Today.”  He said and spit blood on the floor. 

Vince grabbed him by his collar again.  “You better swallow that crap.” 

Sydney dozed with her back against the stone wall.  Dakota’s head laid on her lap, and Annette leaned against her shoulder.  She blinked, rising to consciousness, her mind shedding the remains of her dream.  It was a frightful dream full of bloody images, but in the end a pack of wolves had run out of the forest to save them.

Sydney bounced her shoulder lightly.  Annette sat erect and stared through the murky light of the cellar. 

“I hear them moving around.” 

“What time is it?”  Annette whispered, keeping her eyes on Dakota’s sleeping body. 

“I don’t know.  I think maybe a little past dawn, but it’s hard to tell.  That window doesn’t give much light.” 

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open and boots stomped down the stairs.  Bridgette appeared with Joe right behind her, pulling the string for the light.  He cut their zip ties with a pocket knife.  Bridgette tossed three packs of nabs on the floor and three bottles of water. 

“Breakfast is served.”  She said sarcastically.  “Once they’ve eaten and had a chance on the bucket, tie them back up.” 

Joe nodded, a delighted smile played across his lips. 

Yeah, right.  Sydney thought.  I’ll pee my pants before I let you see that!

“Hey, Bridgette?”  She called after the woman.  She paused with one boot on the first step.  “I just want to know why.”

Bridgette turned and regarded Sydney with amusement.  “It’s nothing personal.  I changed, that’s all.  I learned how we, we as a nation, are wrong concerning what we do over there.”  She shrugged.  “I was fighting on the wrong side, now I’m not.” 

“Did you come to little Creek for Vince?”

“Not initially, but it was fortuitous how it all played out.”  She smiled brilliantly before starting back up the stairs.  “At least I was able to see you again.” 

Dakota sat up and glared at the man.  Sleep was crusted around one eye.  “Why aren’t you nice anymore like at the park?” 

Joe grinned.  “You have crackers.  You should eat, little one.”

“I don’t wanna.”  She pouted.  “I want pancakes.” 

Joe stood and yelled something up the stairs in a language which sounded Arabic.  Sydney and Annette’s eyes met, neither knew if he was angry or not.  If he hadn’t been before he was by the time the conversation ended.  His strangely beautiful words became shorter in syllable and his voice rose in pitch.  Whomever he was yelling at up the stairs threw a shiny package down to him.  Joe brought it to Dakota and dropped it in her lap.  It was a pack of frosted cherry Pop Tarts. 

“What do you say?”  Sydney asked quietly.  She hoped getting on this man’s good side would benefit them later.  He certainly seemed to have a soft spot for Dakota. 

“Thank you.”  Dakota tore into the Pop Tarts and broke a piece off, shoving it near Sydney’s mouth.  Sydney shook her head.  “Want a piece, Aunt Annette?”

“No thank you.”

Joe watched the exchange with interest. 

“She has a good heart.” 

“Yes, she does.”  Sydney tried to keep her eyes neutral.  She didn’t want to seem too nice.  He might figure out her plan.  She didn’t want to seem too defensive.  He might not help them later. 

“You smell like my Daddy.” 

“How’s that, little one?”

Dakota shrugged.  She couldn’t think of the right words. 

“Do I smell bad?”  He teased. 

“No.”  She replied, her mouth full of Pop Tart.  “You just don’t smell like peoples.” 

“Do I smell like a wolf?”

Sydney gasped, and Joe gave her a knowing look. 

“Joe!”  Bridgette roared down the stairs.  “Hurry up!”

“Better eat fast.” 

Annette and Sydney broke open their crackers and ate them as quickly as they could.  There was no telling how long it would be before they had more food or water. 

Vince watched the man they now knew as Vares.  He dozed in the chair, his head flopping to the front then to the back in his restless sleep.  Vince turned Vares cell phone in the palm of his hand willing it to ring. 

Justin walked in the front door.  “Everything’s still clear out there.  Can I get a soda or something?” 

“Yeah, help yourself.” 

When Justin walked back into the room, he looked at the sleeping captive and shook his head.  All the other men were sleeping in various places throughout the house, except for Max, who was on duty in the backyard. 

“Do you think when this is all over you’ll want to come back?” 

“I don’t think I will want to be a Seal anymore, that’s for sure.” 

“You should come then.  It will be good for your little girl.  She’ll probably be a shifter too.” 

“She might not.”  Vince thought of Sydney and wasn’t sure how she would react to that. 

“Most half breed children are shifters.  I was a half breed, and look at me now.”  He smiled slyly and held his arms wide. 

“Oh yeah, you’re quite the specimen.” 

Justin laughed and walked out the front door.  Vince was about to lay the cell phone on the floor by his feet when it began to vibrate in his hand.  He slapped Vares across the face and accepted the call, holding the phone to his ear.  Vince circled to his other ear and whispered fiercely.  “I know enough Pashto and Arabic to make your life hell if you try anything funny.” 

Vince listened as Vares spoke briefly to whomever was on the other end.  He did understand some, not much, but his ears perked up at the word Williamsburg.  Vares spoke a final word, turning his eyes to Vince’s, indicating the call was over. 

“Well?” 

“They have them in a house in a rural area of Williamsburg.”

“Have you been there?” 

“Once.”  Vares slurred his words as he talked around his swollen lip. 

“Can you find it again?”

He nodded.  “Will you allow me to live?”

Vince looked at him coldly.  “That depends.  If anything happens to the women or my little girl; you’re the first one I’m killing.”

Vares swallowed and peed his pants. 

Sydney and was thirsty.  She was stiff and thirsty, and from the bright eyed, red cheeked look of Dakota, she was too.  Annette’s dark skin glistened with sweat. 

“I thought cellars were cool.” 

“It is cool.  Are you alright?” 

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean?”  Sydney’s eyes darkened with concern.

“I just hurt.  And I need to go to the bathroom.” 

Sydney let her head fall back on the stone wall.  Yeah, she needed to go too. 

The door at the top of the stairs creaked in a familiar way, footsteps came down, but they didn’t sound like boots.  A small man with dark tan skin pulled the string to turn the light on.  The weak light caused an amber halo to fall around his head.  He had perfectly round frameless glasses perched on his nose that made Sydney think about John Boy from The Walton’s.  He stared at them in a way that made her skin crawl.  Out of all of the trauma and what they had dealt with; this man was by far the most dangerous thing yet encountered.

“I trust your stay hasn’t been too uncomfortable.” 

Sydney and Annette didn’t speak.  Dakota looked at the man with wary eyes, scooting closer to Sydney. 

“Aren’t you curious why you’re here?”  His accent was lilting and cultured, but unmistakably of some Middle Eastern origin. 

“I’m assuming it has to do with my husband.” 

“You assume correctly.  He participated in a very foolish thing.”  He turned his attention to Annette.  “And your husband helped.”

“Our husbands were under orders of the United States Navy.”  Sydney said with conviction, and astonishingly with pride. 

“Perhaps, but we can’t take on the entire Navy or Marine Corp…just yet.”  He smiled with no feeling, flashing small straight teeth.  Sydney was temporarily mesmerized by them and how white they were.  They looked no bigger than Dakota’s teeth.  “So, in the meantime, we handle what we can.” 

“What do you want form us?”

“Retribution.”  Again the flash of sparkling little teeth. 

“What kind?”

“Monetary, and if that doesn’t work…we believe in an eye for an eye.”

“Aalem!”  A voice called frantically from the top of the stairs.  The little man answered, and listened to the voice at the top speak rapidly in a whispering foreign language.  He looked at them once before hurrying up the stairs. 

Vince watched the scampering of two guards in Navy fatigues as the fire he had started burned in the back yard.  The house was completely surrounded by trees in a horse shoe pattern, and the back yard was small and stubbly.  The crude device he had tossed there worked well.  The house itself was in a dilapidated state, with peeling paint and loose boards. 

They had broken into pairs and were now able to see the house from every angle.  Two men exited the house and began stomping on the fire speaking rapidly in Pashto.  They looked uneasily into the trees. 

At the same moment they were staring into the trees, Randy crept onto the front lawn and snapped the neck of the guard while he was straining to see around the side of the house.  Randy took his weapon and blended back into the tree line. 

The front door opened and Aalem Hanif stepped onto the creaking porch.  His steely dark eyes swept the front yard, and he walked the length of the little porch on both sides.   Satisfied, he went back in closing the door again. 

Vince pushed Vares through the trees and brush until he was nearing the front of the house.  Stanley broke from Randy’s protection and went to the one window that was in the foundation of the house.  It looked like a basement or cellar window.  It was the logical place to look first.  He crouched and hurried to the window, taking the last few feet in a belly crawl.  He cupped his hands around his face to better see through the filthy glass.  His heart leapt into his chest when he saw Annette and Sydney sitting closely with Dakota between them.  He hurried back across, his face beaming. 

“They’re in there!” 

“Are they alright?” 

“Looks like it.  They have their hands tied.” 

Vince felt his anger reach a boiling point.  “Dakota too?”

“I don’t know.” 

He held the phone out to Vares.  “Call now.” 

Vares obeyed, struggling to hold the phone and scroll through his contacts with his wrists bound by duct tape.  Vince held the phone.  He looked up at Vince and nodded.  “I told him to come outside.” 

Aalem Hanif stepped onto the porch, his face staring amusedly at the sight of Vares coming out of the woods with his wrists bound.

Vince’s voice rang out clearly from the shelter of the tree line.  “Stop, Vares!  Give us our women and the child and you can have your man.  Otherwise, I’ll shoot him where he stands.” 

Bridgette and the two guards from the backyard, now standing on the porch too, watched nervously.  Vince thought that either meant that they were it, now that the guard in front was dead, or that she was nervous because she could smell other werewolves in the woods.  The other man beside her in civilian clothes was also sniffing the air, whereas she was nervous and twitchy looking; he had a mild pleasant look to his face, almost wistful.

“You are a stupid man.”  Aalem said, his eyes on constant search.  

“Why am I so stupid?” 

“You bring one hostage to exchange for three?”  He shook his head.  “Very foolish.” 

“He’s one of your own.” 

Aalem jerked the gun from Bridgette’s hand and shot Vares in the head before Vince could react.  He handed Bridgette the gun back without taking his eyes from the spot Vares had just stood.  “That’s how much he meant to me.” 

Aalem spoke quietly to Bridgette and the two guards from the backyard.  They broke from the porch at a run, all going in different directions.  He then turned to the last man on the porch.

Stanley held up his hand gun and pointed to the rifle strapped to Vince’s back, then pointed back to himself.  The pantomime wasn’t over as he pointed back to Vince and the werewolves who were closest before putting his hands above his head, bent like claws, and contorted his face in to a silent snarl.  Vince wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but there would be time for that later.  He nodded his understanding.  Stanley took the rifle and moved stealthily towards the front of the property.