Skin Walkers Read online

  King nodded and shoved up off the couch before exiting the room, leaving Monroe alone to pace to the window. He smiled as he eyed his night-shrouded Estate. Giddy anticipation surged through him and he was both nervous and hopeful that everything in D.C. would go according to plan. He was so deep in concentration that he nearly missed the sound when his office door clicked open. Turning, his heart swelled as his Eden entered the room in her nightgown. Quietly, she padded across the room in her bare feet. As soon as she was to him, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “Love?” She looked concerned as she reached up and stroked the smile still on his lips. She knew it was a great feat to get her Walker mate to smile, and when he did, it typically meant he’d succeeded in another of his great schemes.

  “Tyce Steele is about to come to heel.”

  Not surprisingly, the revelation only seemed to heighten his Angel’s apprehension. “Is that a good idea? We don’t need him, do we?”

  “Why so worried, Angel?”

  “I just don’t think we can afford to make an enemy of him.”

  Monroe tisked and shook his head. “Not an enemy. He’s about to realize he needs our help.”

  Delicate brow’s speared down. “He’s never needed us before.”

  Cupping her cheek, Monroe’s eyes glittered with delight. “He’s never had anything so valuable before. He’ll finally see, finally understand. He’ll need us now.”

  Chapter 5

  Standing the in the hallway, dressed in an expensive business suit, Tyce was actually slightly annoyed at the ease with which he’d found his way to the condo housing the mark he sought. Too easy. Turning, he glanced down the hall and wondered if it weren’t some sort of trap. Monroe had made it sound like it’d be mission impossible, but this was cake.

  He nodded at where Lok paced at one end of the hall before turning to see Bronco standing ready at the other end. Focusing, he contacted his team waiting outside through the Skin Walker’s telepathic means of communication known as the mist. “Any movement?”

  Conn responded first with a firm, “No.”

  James answered next. “Nothing on this end, boss.”

  Finally, Shane gave the, “All clear.”

  Hmm, curious. Tyce turned to face the door and lifted his hand, his knuckles rapping a quick cadence before he waited. When the door opened, he plastered on his friendliest smile, knowing the recently acquired scars on his face tended to immediately frighten people.

  At first, he was confused when the door opened and no one was there. It took him all of a second to look down and find a pigtailed little girl staring up at him with the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen.

  “Hi,” she said, in a voice too sweet for comprehension.

  Tyce’s brows snapped into a frown as he looked over her head. “Hi. Is…uh…you’re,” he looked back down at the little girl. “Is your mommy home?”

  “Fena!” A feminine voice cried out. It was laced with panic and Tyce made to look up, but the little girl, Fena, suddenly took his hand, keeping his attention.

  “Mommy’s dead,” she said in a sad voice. “So is daddy.”

  Interesting.

  “Fena!” The woman cried again, and then the child was hauled up so quickly that Tyce actually felt guilty, like he’d done something wrong.

  Face buried in the little girl’s neck, the woman offered Tyce an opportunity to size her up. Stepmother? Babysitter? Nanny? Whoever she was, she was a tiny thing. She couldn’t have been more than a few inches past five feet. Strawberry blonde hair that was more strawberry than blonde hung in short satiny tresses that barely shielded her face. Straight nose, creamy skin, rosy cheeks, and full lips gave the impression from the side view that the woman was pretty.

  Plastering his fake smile back into place, Tyce opened his mouth to say something flirty and witty to set the woman at ease. He knew women, knew how to speak to them to distract them. By nature women were vain…well, the women he’d had the pleasure of bedding. Playing to a woman’s ego and making them feel special was second nature to Tyce, and this woman would be no different.

  Mentally sifting through his tried and true lines, he chose one he thought would work best on the overprotective whatever she was. He opened his mouth to grace her with his wit in the same instant she stepped back and lifted her face to glare at him accusatorily.

  The cold silver of his eyes collided with the warm whiskey color of hers and his words died in his throat. As if in slow motion, time slammed to a halt and Tyce’s smile fell just as a gut-wrenching pain twisted his insides, stealing his breath and dropping him to his knees.

  Crashing to the floor, he couldn’t pull his eyes from the woman. Even as the sound of his slowing heartbeat filled his ears, he couldn’t look away. Suddenly, in the space of a blink, his stalled-out heart raced to top speed as his insides twisted so violently that he snarled in pain. One arm clamped around his middle as he threw himself forward to brace on the other, but he still didn’t break eye contact. His eye refused to stray from hers. He just couldn’t stop staring at her…her! His fucking Angel!

  Alarm swept the woman’s delicate features, but she recovered quickly. Too quickly. Just as his halo emitted a high pitched whine and blinked with an ethereal light, the woman gasped and recoiled, the child still held tightly in her arms, before the door was slammed in his face.

  Rage flooded him. She was getting away and Bronco and Loc were staring at him from their places down the hall. Hell, Loc even had the audacity to holler, asking him stupid shit like, “Everything alright? You okay, boss?”

  No! Fuck no! Fucking unmated idiots!

  He snarled once, pain still tearing through him as his incisors punched through his gums. His animals surged to the fore, determined to chase down and claim what was theirs. He tried to speak, to direct his men to get inside and secure his Angel, but his inner beasts polluted his voice and only feral sounds rolled from between his twisted lips. Growling in frustration, he lowered his head and clenched his teeth, struggling to regain his composure as his men finally caught on that something wasn’t right and raced toward him from both directions.

  Dragging in a painfully deep breath he shoved up off the floor and took two steps before he went back down. Affliction!

  He’d heard Monroe drone on about it for years. There were also rumors that StoneCrow’s Chief of Surgery, Jenny, had a serum she’d been using to delay the initial onset. Tyce had wanted no part of any of it, and each time Monroe had tried to broach the subject, Tyce had been quick to shut him down. In this instant he regretted it. Right now, the urge to chase down the female and claim her was so powerful that it trumped all else. In this moment she was more important to him than his money, his Walkers, or even Apex. By the Grandfathers, what he wouldn’t give to go back and have the opportunity to ask more questions, or give even an ounce of his attention to the rumors and science of it all.

  His keen hearing picked up the suddenly heightened sound of traffic and voices coming from the room before the sound faded to nothing. She’d opened a window and then closed it. Fuck! She’d gone out the window and was making a run for it!

  The streets were full of people, and if he couldn’t get a hold of himself in the next few seconds he’d risk the chance of losing her. Again, he shoved up off the ground and managed to remain upright just as Lok and Bronco reached him. Still unable to speak, he jabbed his finger toward the stairs they’d come up.

  “Shit! The woman!”

  FINALLY!

  Lok and Bronco moved instantly, but even that ripped him up. He didn’t want anyone chasing her, touching her. Lurching forward he felt his hands claw and looked down to see that sharp nails had shot through the tips of his fingers. He was in some kind of fucked-up mid-shift and he couldn’t be seen like this, not here. There were too many people, and he couldn’t risk exposing their secret, so as Loc and Bronco raced for the stairs, he turned and kicked the door to the condo open. It banked off the wall and he left it open as he limp
ed into the room, eyes scanning, nostrils flaring. He’d been right. His Angel was gone.

  Chapter 6

  Tyce paced the suite of his motel while his Sentries scoured the city. He was pissed. No, pissed didn’t cut it. He was fucking livid. His Angel had slipped through his fingers and it made zero fucking sense. Three Sentries…no, not Sentries! His men were goddamn mercenaries, the best there were, and still the three outside and the two that had rushed from the building hadn’t been able to secure his Angel and the little girl she’d been with. That pissed him off too. Who was the kid? Clearly, it wasn’t his Angel’s daughter, because the kid had said that her mommy was dead. Was it a ruse? A story they’d rehearsed to somehow avoid capture?

  Expelling a pent-up breath on a growl, he rolled his head on his shoulders and ignored how his skin crawled with the need to hunt. Right now, he was waiting for Intel that Monroe suddenly remembered he had forgotten to supply.

  Fucker! He was going to mutilate Monroe StoneCrow, but first, he had to find her. The shock of the initial affliction still hadn’t worn off, but it came in second to the realization that he’d found his Angel. And she was human. It wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d thought that, if he one day found his One, she’d be a Walker, a kick-ass one like Conn’s Aries. The fact that this woman was human, out in the city alone and without protection while others hunted her was terrifying. It was a new emotion to Tyce. Nothing scared him, ever! And yet here he was, sick to his stomach and feeling another new emotion…helplessness.

  A snarl ripped from him as he paced. Unease knotted his stomach with the realization that his choice had been taken from him in the matter. Intentionally, he’d never sought out his mate. He knew she could be used against him, or taken from him. His Angel wouldn’t be just a person, she would be a weapon, a weapon everyone would attempt to use against him. All this time, he’d been smart enough to keep everyone from having any leverage over him, and now that ended.

  Burying a hand in his hair, he actually contemplated walking away. His feet stalled and his body slammed to a halt as he stood and truly considered getting on his jet and flying back home without her. His inner beasts raked their claws down his insides and he dropped to a knee with the agony that seared him. The physical pain came second only to the stab of guilt that tore through him. A tidal wave of emotion engulfed him and he staggered to his feet, refusing to be cowed by current circumstance. He’d found his One. Good or bad, he’d found his Angel.

  His laptop dinged indicating an incoming email and Tyce had to fist his hands several times before crossing to the table and reaching for the laptop. He was so primal right now he didn’t trust himself not to break the damn thing.

  The e-mail was two words. Two words that rocked Tyce’s world, two words that in the space of an intake of breath became more significant to him than any other two words in existence.

  Briel Solomon.

  Briel. He rolled his Angel’s name around his head, instantly discarding the last name. It’d change. Surprisingly, just thinking her name soothed something inside of him. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. All two seconds of what he’d seen anyway.

  Closing his eyes, he shot her name to his team through the mist. He knew his men, and he knew Conn would be on top of seeking her. It’d be child’s play to the Walker Commander. Hell, he’d hunted down his own Angel, Aries, and she’d been more wily and cunning than any other mark they’d ever gone after. She’d even ended up joining Conn on his team of mercs after he’d claimed her, but with the birth of their daughter, Wynter, they both preferred Aries and Wynter stay at StoneCrow while Conn was on assignment, because Angels and children were more secure there than at Apex.

  He thought on that now as he backed away from the laptop and resumed pacing. Things would have to change, and drastically, because there was no way he was bringing Briel and that…kid to Apex without erecting some form of wall and stationing guards like they did at… Fuck! He was turning into Monroe already, and Apex would be like StoneCrow, and… Monroe! That fucker had known! Tyce slammed to a halt mid-pace, dropping his hands and fisting them at his sides as Monroe’s words played in his head.

  “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

  “Mother. Fucker!” He didn’t have a single doubt that Monroe StoneCrow knew exactly what would happen when Tyce met the mark. A rolling growl rattled his chest, and while Tyce was pissed at being played, he was too worried about Briel to waste his energy on plans of revenge.

  A mental nudge indicated that one of his Walkers was attempting to contact him. Conn.

  “She cleared out her bank account forty-five minutes ago from a bank near Union Station. Smart girl. She’s sticking to heavily populated areas.”

  “Anyone could find her out there!”

  “I’ve contacted Aries to get a woman’s perspective. She said to ignore the metro and train station. I’ve sent Loc and Bronco to the two nearest car rental shops. Shane and James are going to the train station just in case. I’ll stay on the interwebs and see if I can’t track her down. Oh! Aries is on her way here. Not DC, but my location.” There was pride in his tone when he said, “She took the redeye last night. Said she knew us boys would fuck this up. York and Sky are heading to Apex with Wynter now.”

  Grateful as he was, Tyce was unable to comment so he severed the connection. He needed to do something, had to do something, but what? His eyes flicked to his laptop and suddenly he was across the room, jerking up the desk phone.

  Monroe answered after two rings, his tone a cocky laced casual. “Tyce. How is DC?”

  “Cut the shit you deceitful conniving fuck!”

  Monroe’s chuckle rumbled over the line. “That good, eh?”

  “You fucking knew!”

  He was answered by silence, which was confirmation enough.

  Tyce demanded, “How?”

  The indifference in Monroe’s tone was so grating that Tyce had to pinch his eyes closed against the rage clouding his vision. “The attack on the Estate. You and your men donated blood for the Walkers in need.”

  Incredulity laced Tyce’s tone when he accused, “We came to your aid and you took advantage of it?”

  “I found your One,” Monroe ground out. If I hadn’t done what I did, she’d be on the run right now, unprotected, with her five-year-old sister. I did you a favor!”

  Sister. That explained a lot. Still… “Fuck you and your scheming ways. I was afflicted. She got away. My Angel is still on the run and unprotected!”

  Monroe tisked over the line. “One last bone then.”

  Tyce waited impatiently with forced silence. He worried he wouldn’t be able to hear Monroe over the roaring pulse in his veins.

  “General Solomon secured several safe houses in the DC area for this exact scenario. One of those is a permanent suite he kept at the Washington Court Hotel; it’s next to Kelly’s Irish Times, near Union Station. Try there. I’ll text you the address.”

  “And how is it your privy to this information?”

  “The General and I did business together.”

  “And you had this Intel the entire time? You withheld it?”

  Monroe sighed over the line.

  “If anything happens to her, if I don’t find her in time, you’re fucking dead!”

  Now the anger in Monroe’s tone matched Tyce’s own. “You think I’d let her die? You think I’d let any Angel die? Never! Especially not this one. She’s going to do the one thing I’ve been unable to for years. She’s gonna bring you to your fucking knees.”

  Tyce swallowed hard, Adam’s apple dipping low in his throat as he considered a denial, then thought better of it. They both knew the power an Angel held over her Walker.

  “King and his team have the hotel surrounded. Move your ass, Tyce. I can’t babysit your Angel all night.”

  The line went dead and Tyce didn’t even bother replacing the phone receiver in its cradle, just letting it drop to bounce off the desk as he turned and rushed the door, contacting his
team through the mist to relay the information.

  Chapter 7

  Briel stared out the window, hugging herself. The sun, just a warm pat of melting butter on the horizon, held her entranced. The rain had finally stopped. After a night hidden away at another of her father’s “safe locations” in a hotel next door to an Irish pub, Briel was starting to feel better about things. There’d been no sign of the man who’d come to the door. She didn’t know who he was or what he wanted, and she sure as hell hadn’t stuck around to find out either. She and Fena had hightailed it out the window and then melted into the throngs of partygoers, mostly students, who’d filled the busy streets last night. Thank God for Saturdays.

  Turning, she eyed where Fena slept on the giant four poster bed. The room was immaculate, just as the other had been. The General had spared no expense, per usual. Just like the other, this one had a pantry crammed full of canned goods, but instead of MRE’s, Briel was delighted to find a freezer full of food. It was a nice change of pace and she’d made her and Fena a fabulous steak dinner to make up for the mad dash from their last hideaway. They’d had to leave their coats last night, and by the time they’d gotten to the new hotel, they’d both been soaked. She’d been worried that Fena would get sick, but they shared a steaming bath before dinner and later, curled up in front of the fireplace, they’d each downed two mugs of hot chocolate from packets she’d found in the kitchenette. Fena had fallen asleep easily, cuddled up under the thick burgundy comforter on the king-sized bed. Briel hadn’t had any such luck. Nope, she’d paced and worried all night long, checking and then re-checking the locks on the door and windows. She was worried now because this suite was on the top floor and there’d be no window escape if Creepy McCreeperton found them.

  Her thoughts strayed back to the man. He’d been…scary. Scary and sexy, if that made any sense. She hadn’t been fooled by the expensive looking suit he’d worn. The man was as lethal as any soldier her father commanded, and that fact couldn’t be disguised with fine clothes. His face had been scarred like he was some battle-hardened warrior, and the thought of how he’d earned the wounds forced a shiver through her as she remembered how close he’d gotten to Fena. If he hadn’t had an attack, or whatever in the hell it had been, they’d never have gotten away.