There was no disguising the worry Damien was projecting and, responding to the urgency he also heard, Jacob quickly slipped into a darkened doorway before disappearing, reappearing moments later inside Abby’s bookstore. “What the hell happened?” he asked Damien and Luc as he took in the destructive vandalism that was sure to break Abby’s heart.
Damien looke
d up as he righted a chair, his anger at the damage done to Abby’s store as well as the loft upstairs tempered only by his fear of what could have happened to her had she been here. “I would say it was a break-in, but given what happened last week I’m not so sure it’s that simple.” There was the distinct possibility that the rogue who got away at Marie’s last week had returned with help to seek out the potential mate who had escaped them. Abby. His mate. And if they were starting to target mates specifically, they were all going to have to take extra precautions.
“You think Isabelle, or whoever we’re dealing with, sent more rogues after her?” Jacob moved to the shelves and started picking up the books strewn on the floor in front of them.
“It has to be considered just as Damien has to at least consider claiming Abby if, for no other reason than to get up to his full strength.” Luc glared at his friend and leader, unperturbed by Damien’s glower. “You know I’m right.”
“Shit, Damien, Luc’s right. If we are dealing with that psychotic bitch again, or someone of equal power, you won’t be any help in keeping Abby or anyone else safe if you’re too weak to fight.”
Knowing they were right didn’t make the decision any easier. He would be putting Abby at risk either from him or from whoever was now targeting her. “Let’s do what we can here then I’m going to pay a visit to Mason.”
“He was a no show again tonight?” Jacob asked.
“Yes, and I’ve had it with him. He either comes clean and joins us again or he’s on his own.”
Damien noticed the way both Jacob and Luc winced. Having the support and companionship of their tight group as well as their mates was what kept them going night after night, kept them from abusing their powers and gifts that could do just as much damage as good. Even though they were all decent men in their prior lives, he knew how easy it could be to cross lines they never would have considered crossing before.
“Let’s see what he has to say before we go that far,” Jacob said, worry for Mason now as prevalent as his worry for Abby was.
The three of them did everything they could to set Abby’s store and apartment back to rights, making note that expensive items such as her television, computer and the cash in her register hadn’t been taken, ruling out robbery. Abby didn’t need the attention calling this in to the police would get her and definitely didn’t need anything that might connect her to Marie. Damien had no way of knowing if the cops took down license plates of the cars parked along Marie’s street in order to check for witnesses, but no one had approached Abby in the past week and he wanted to keep it that way.
“Are we going to just pop in on him?” Jacob asked when they finished. “What if he’s with someone?”
“It’s not like we haven’t seen him fucking before,” Luc returned dryly, his light brown eyes reflecting amusement.
“It’d serve him right for not showing up again, especially after promising me last week he’d start pulling his weight. Let’s go.”
There was no arguing with Damien once he set his mind to something and this recent threat aimed at Abby had him determined to pull in all of their resources. Jacob had two clues that something was amiss the moment they materialized in Mason’s living room. The first was the sight of Mason slouched on his sofa, a half empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his hand. Their altered systems could tolerate liquor, as well as food, in small doses, but from the smell and look of Mason, he had already lost most of what he had ingested.
His second clue was the sudden throb of heat in his palm, a warm pulse that had his cock stirring despite the hours he had spent earlier fucking Mandy and Daisy. Opening his hand, he looked at the red, crescent shaped mark on his right palm, the same birthmark all of the brethren shared. Snippets of remarks made by those who had found their mates reverberated in his head, all those times he had listened enviously to his friend’s describing how the erotic pulse of their palms was the first indication they had that the woman they were either with or near was their mate. Closing his hand in an attempt to contain the promise of that unaccustomed response, he glared at Mason when he looked at them with bleary confusion.
“What have you done?” he rasped.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Mason struggled to rise, glaring at the three of them while trying to remember if he had locked his bedroom door. Damn it, why didn’t he meet up with Damien like he promised? He had known Damien would come looking for him if he didn’t start joining them again on patrol, but instead of playing it safe, he had spent another night wallowing in self-pity as he struggled with his conscience.
“Jacob? What gives?” Luc asked as he watched Jacob’s face pale then redden with anger, his green eyes taking on a reddish glow.
Jacob ignored them as he looked around the small living room then strode into the kitchen before coming right back out and heading down the small hallway towards the closed door at the end, the erotic, rapid pulse in his palm increasing with each step, desperation, anger and fear all battling for supremacy as he reached for the knob.
“God damn it!” Mason roared as he attempted to follow him only to be brought up short by Luc and Damien barring his way. “Get out of my way. Better yet, get out of my house.”
“Not until you tell us what’s going on,” Damien stated implacably, his gaze going from Mason’s desperate look to Jacob’s determined stride down the hall. “What’re you trying to hide, Mason?”
Mason cringed at the soft menace in Damien’s voice. Their leader was an easy going man, unfailingly supportive and protective of those he cared about, but he could also be coldly ruthless and dangerous if crossed or if an innocent has been harmed and Mason had committed both of those sins. His eyes darted nervously down the hall as he heard the door open followed by Jacob’s curses then his bellow of rage.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I didn’t intend to take it this far, keep her this long. I just needed someone…”
“Aw, hell.” Damien and Luc both sped down the hall as Jacob’s roar of undisguised anguish and fury reverberated throughout the small house.
Jacob knew that the scared, naked woman bound to Mason’s bed was his mate just as he knew he was going to kill his brethren for the abuse he had obviously heaped upon her. Cringing against the headboard, large blue eyes wide and stricken with fear, shoulder length blonde hair disheveled around a pretty, round face weren’t the only telltale signs that she wasn’t tied with her arms above her willingly. Her soft, lush breasts sported small bruises as did her round thighs and he had to swallow against the bile threatening to come up as he pictured more bruises being hidden between her tightly clamped legs. But the thing that had his rage erupting into scalding fury was the sight of two small puncture wounds on her neck, right next to a mauve, crescent shaped mark that was physical proof she was destined to become a mate to one of the brethren. Mason had to have known within moments of being near this woman that she was not meant for him, just as Jacob knew by the voracious lust engulfing him, surprising him with its intensity and need the minute he came into close proximity of her, that she was meant for him and him alone.
“Jesus,” Luc breathed in surprised anger when he and Damien entered the room behind Jacob. “Who the hell is she?”
“My mate.” A sudden thin chill hung on the edge of Jacob’s words as he turned from the shocked, terror filled look on his mate’s face to glare menacingly at Mason who now stood behind Luc and Damien in the doorway. His need for retribution blinded him to everything else, including the stricken guilt etched on Mason’s face.
“Mason, why?” Damien’s voice shook with anger as well as despair at the actions of one of his own.