Shadow Soldier (8 page)

What had happened between her and Cade, it was in the past, and it had never been about anything more than a mutual release of tension. “No, he’s not mine, whatever that means. Like I said, I owe him, that’s it.”

Deke grunted, but he didn’t say anything further on the subject as he led her past the last brick building. Beyond the intersection, the cobblestone streets of the Square gave way to asphalt-paved roads lined on either side with newer, more modern shops. Jewelry, clothing, shoes, toys, electronics, appliances—the row of businesses contained everything she could possibly want, and some things she’d almost forgotten existed.

Past the stores with their gleaming windows and colorful displays, the blacktop curved to the south, opening to green fields and sparse forests. Atop the highest hill and surrounded by a black, iron fence sat a white, three-story mansion with towering columns and sprawling balconies.

Roux stared up at the pretentious house with an arched brow and wrinkled her nose. “That’s not excessive or anything.”

“The royals enjoy their luxuries.” With a shrug, Deke turned her away from the mansion, leading her in the opposite direction.

“Are they really royalty?”

“Yes and no.” He pointed toward a concrete building set into the mouth of the forest and nudged her toward it. “The Diavolos family is the oldest and wealthiest line of vampires in North America. They’re considered nobility amongst the paranormal community, but they aren’t royalty like you’d think of the title.”

Roux didn’t know how she could use the information, but she filed it away for future reference. “And this place?” she asked, nodding toward the stone building. “This is the Bastille?”

“That’s just what the guards call it. You can think of it like a holding center. When refugees come in—”

“You mean humans. When you kidnap humans and bring them here against their will, what happens after that?” Her irritation flared when he laughed at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” Deke shook his head as he urged her ahead of him. “After everything you’ve seen this morning, you still think this place is a prison.”

One hour didn’t erase the horrible things she’d seen during the past eighteen months. “Forgive me if I remain skeptical.”

Instead of debating her, Deke shook his head again and stepped forward to push open the huge, metal door. “There’s an infirmary in the basement,” he said as they entered a wide, sterile corridor. “You need to get that arm looked at before we leave.”

Roux ran her fingertips over the gauze bandage on her forearm. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, and the bleeding had stopped. The gash didn’t go deep enough to require stitches, and as long as she kept it clean, the risk of infection was minimal.

“I’m fine. It barely even hurts today.”

Deke said nothing.

At the end of the hallway, he pushed open a set of double, swinging doors to reveal a room that brought back memories of her high school cafeteria, right down to the deafening volume of noise. Long, collapsible tables with bench seats covered most of the gray and white checkered tiles, and dozens of people milled about the rectangular room.

The scent of freshly baked bread filled the dining hall, and Roux’s stomach gurgled, reminding her she’d walked out of the bakery without her breakfast. Food would have to wait, though.

“Why are we here?”

In answer, Deke pointed to a table against the far wall.

Secluded from everyone else, four men ate in complete silence, staring down at their trays as if they’d been force-fed broken glass. Showered, shaven, and dressed in borrowed clothes, they were barely recognizable as the same guys she’d left the previous night.

“Where’s Nevah?” She didn’t know Nevah well, didn’t even really like her, but she felt responsible for the woman. “Did something happen to her?”

“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

She tensed at the evasive answer. Deke had known exactly where Cade and the others were in the cavernous room. Whether he could smell them, hear them, sense them, or whatever, she didn’t know, but it stood to reason he’d be able to use the same methods to find Nevah.

“Where is she?” Roux pressed.

“I told you, she’s—”

“That’s the first lie you’ve told me.” Now that she knew what it sounded like, she could confidently say he’d been telling the truth about the treatment of humans in Trinity Grove. “Where is she, Deke?”

Sighing, Deke rubbed the back of his neck while he scanned the cafeteria. “Not here.”

“Fine.” Roux gritted her teeth against the growing frustration. “Later.” She understood the need for secrecy, but the lack of answers grated on her already frayed nerves. “I’m going to talk to Cade.”

* * * *

Deke bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. The female asked too many damn questions, and she was going to ruin everything if he couldn’t get her under control. Once again, he thought about honoring his promise to help her get out of the city. He rejected the idea just as quickly, though, his need to protect her outweighing his need to safeguard the mission.

Ideally, he’d find a way to do both, but that meant telling Roux everything, entrusting her with secrets that could potentially get her killed. So, he’d put her in danger to protect her. Somehow, his plan felt a little counterproductive.

Wanting to give Roux privacy with her friends—even if she wouldn’t admit they
were
friends—he moved to an unoccupied corner of the room and leaned against the wall. He tried to occupy his mind, to think about anything except her, but his gaze continuously drifted to the far side of the room.

He told himself he just wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure nothing happened to her. If his heart beat too fast, or his stomach clenched when she hugged the leader of the group, it didn’t mean anything. And if he focused his hearing until the roar of the room faded into white noise, allowing him to eavesdrop on Roux’s conversation…well, that didn’t mean anything, either.

“Denny, you’re looking dapper,” she greeted the older gentleman with glasses. “I see you have a new bowtie.”

She turned on the bench to look at the two men sitting across the table. “Greg, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face before,” she said with a laugh.

“It’s different,” he answered, smoothing his palm along his jawline.

“He refused to get his hair cut, though,” the guy sitting beside him interjected. “I don’t know why. It looks like a fucking bird’s nest.”

“Brody!” Roux slapped at his hand where it rested on the tabletop. Then she sat back between the one she called Denny and the leader, Cade. “How are you? Are they treating you okay?”

“Forget us.” Grabbing her shoulders, Cade turned her to look at him, running one hand over her face and petting her hair with the other. “How are
you
? Did they hurt you? I really hoped you’d gotten away.”

Growling under his breath, Deke curled his fingers, squeezing his hands into fists against his thighs. Without warning, his fingernails erupted into inch-long daggers, the claws digging into the flesh of his palms, but he barely noticed the pain.

Or the blood that dripped from between his fingers.

“I’m okay,” Roux answered, leaning away from his touch.

Deke relaxed a little.

“What happened to your arm?” Ignoring her reaction, Cade took her hand, lifting it and stretching her arm so he could inspect the gauze-wrapped wound. “Did someone do this to you?”

Visions of slapping the asshole through the glass window flittered through Deke’s mind. It would be satisfying, but ultimately, it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“I fell.” Gently, Roux removed her hand from his grasp and placed it in her lap. “It happened before we left the fishing shack last night.”

“I remember.” Brody bobbed his head. “Nevah patched it up.”

“Where is she anyway?” Straightening in his seat, Greg peered around the dining hall, as if he expected the female to come waltzing down the aisle. “She was there when they took us, but I haven’t seen her since we got here.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.” Roux fidgeted in her seat, her gaze darting toward Deke and away again quickly.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Cade demanded. His gaze narrowed, and a crease formed along the bridge of his nose. “Where have you been, Roux? Where did you get those clothes?”

Deke stilled, holding his breath while he waited for her to answer. Would she lie? What would she say about him?

“I’m okay,” Roux insisted, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I stayed with the captain last night.”

“You mean he kidnapped you.” Cade rolled his eyes and scoffed. “We’re not guests here, Roux, we’re prisoners.”

“It’s safe here,” the older man, Denny, interrupted, his voice quiet and wavering. “They haven’t treated us poorly.” He stared down at his tray, his shoulders rounded and his back hunched. “It’s better than out there.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Brody rubbed a hand over his newly shorn scalp. “We’re getting out of here, and the sooner the better. I don’t trust them.”

With stilted and halting movements, Roux rose from her seat and rubbed at her arms. “I need to go, but I’ll be back. Keep your heads down and don’t do anything stupid. Just…give me some time.”

Before any of the men could argue, she spun around and hurried toward the exit. Pushing away from the wall, Deke navigated around the long tables, catching up with the female just as she reached the double doors.

“Everything okay?” he asked. “You look a little frazzled.”

“I’m fine.” Roux glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “So, uh, where to now?”

Unable to say anything comforting without revealing he’d been eavesdropping, Deke pressed his hand to her thin back, ushering her through the double doors. “We’ll swing by the dorms first, get you some clothes that fit, then I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“What dorms?” she asked, purposely ignoring the bit about the infirmary.

He pointed to the end of the corridor. “The females’ dorms are to the right, just before you get to the exit. Three women to a room, so it’s kind of cramped, but there’s been talk of expan—”

“What happened to your hand?” Roux grabbed his wrist, jerking his hand closer to examine the bloody, mangled flesh of his palm. “These look like…” Trailing off, she prodded the four, crescent-shaped wounds with a light touch. “Did you do this to yourself?”

“Just an accident.” Her concern touched him, gave him hope, but still, he withdrew his hand and wiped it against his pant leg. “It’s fine.” Flipping his hand over, he held his palm out again for her to see. “Already healing.”

Indeed, the skin tingled and itched where it had begun to knit itself back together. In another hour, there would be no evidence that anything had ever been wrong, apart from the smeared blood, and even that would wash away.

Fuck, he didn’t know what was happening to him. Twice in mere hours, he’d partially shifted without meaning to, without even realizing he’d done it until after the fact. He couldn’t think straight with Roux around, didn’t trust his judgment when it came to her. Every decision he’d made since finding her in the woods had been based on how it would affect her. Even when she’d nearly jeopardized his cover, his primary concern had still been for her.

If finding his mate meant losing his damn mind, maybe he’d been better off alone.

Entering the common room of the women’s dormitory, Deke paused, unsure he should be there. “I’ll just wait here by the door.” He directed her to a row of wooden wall lockers on the other side of the room. “Take whatever you need. Grab a jacket, too,” he added. “You may not need it now, but you will come winter.”

Roux made quick work of shifting through the lockers, taking only two shirts, two pairs of jeans, a sweater, and a package of black socks. Following a heated argument, she also conceded to grabbing a pair of tennis shoes and a black, leather coat with sheepskin lining.

“These are nice,” she commented, shoving her new belongings into a spare pillowcase. “I expected something more institutional. Where does all this stuff come from?”

“The shops in town. In exchange for their donations, the store owners are given certain…incentives.”

“Right.” Her eyebrows quirked upward, but for once, she didn’t push for specifics. “Okay, I’m going to change. Bathroom?”

“End of the hall.”

Deke waited by the door, trying to think of anything other than Roux being naked just a few feet away. Not surprisingly, he failed, and within seconds, memories of the kiss they’d shared at the bakery consumed his thoughts. He’d never expected her to return the kiss, but he also knew he hadn’t been the only one who’d felt the spark that ignited between them.

Urges and impulses wouldn’t be enough to convince her to stay. Furthermore, he suspected his original plan to enlist Abigail’s help wouldn’t change Roux’s mind, either. He’d hoped another female, especially another
human
female, would know what to say to alleviate Roux’s suspicions.

He’d thought that if anyone could break through Roux’s shroud of distrust, it would be Abigail Dawson. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Roux didn’t want or need a friend. She wanted answers, but also something else, something Deke couldn’t quite identify.

“Ready,” Roux announced, entering the common room dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans and a pale blue tank top.

The scent of fresh blood followed her into the room, drawing his attention to the swell of bright crimson blooming across the bandage on her forearm. How she’d managed to reopen the wound in the span of three minutes, he couldn’t guess, but it solidified his decision to escort her to the infirmary.

“What happened?”

“I tripped and hit it on the sink.” She wrinkled her nose. “Hurt like hell, but it’ll be fine.”

“Right.” Deke had never met anyone so damn stubborn. “Let’s go.”

“It’s just a cut, barely more than a scratch. I don’t need to see a doctor.”

“You can walk, or I can carry you.” He crossed his arms in challenge, blocking her way to the exit. “What’s it going to be?”

“You know, I’m still not opposed to killing you.”