Skin Walkers Conn Read online

  Chapter 10

  Satisfied that Aries was secure in her room, Conn paced Monroe’s office on the floor above his suite. “What the fuck do you mean it’s like the rut?”

  Monroe didn’t bother hiding his amusement as he smiled up from his desk as his Chief of Security, King Mulholland, stood at his shoulder. “How do we explain this delicately King?”

  “Fuck delicacy,” Conn cut in, “I want answers and I want them now!”

  Monroe carefully set down his pen and pushed aside the paperwork he’d been working on. He picked up his smart phone from where it sat on his desk and touched the screen before speaking, “Eden, send Dr. Arkinson to my office.”

  Conn felt his gut wrench. Things couldn’t be good if the Doctor was needed.

  Monroe stood and paced to the two leather sofas that sat facing each other in front of his desk, separated by a glass-topped table. “Please have a seat.” He motioned for Conn to take the seat across from him.

  Conn rubbed a hand angrily over the back of his neck and hissed in frustration. “I’ll stand. Answers. Now!”

  Monroe took a seat and crossed an ankle over one knee before threading his fingers behind his head. “We refer to it as Affliction.”

  “Affliction?” Conn growled impatiently.

  “Yes,” Monroe’s smile widened. “When you first laid eyes on Aries, not when you first saw her, but the first moment your eyes locked with hers, were you affected?”

  Conn frowned at the other man.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Monroe uncrossed his legs and sat forward, “It’s an instantaneous animalistic attraction to her. It’s designed to force you to recognize that she holds some significance to you. It’s why you were incapacitated at your first meeting, but it’s so much more than that. Much like the rut that ruminant animals experience, male Walkers too are…afflicted.”

  Conn’s words were clipped, “Afflicted how?”

  “Do you hunt Conn?”

  “Yes.” The word was ground out angrily.

  “Then you understand the extent of the rut?”

  Conn’s eyes flashed dangerously as he clarified, “I. Hunt. Men!”

  Monroe’s eyes flashed to the door and he called out, “Come in,” before Jenny had the chance to knock.

  She was escorted, as usual, by her Walker husband Bishop. Wordlessly the duo entered the room and Jenny took a seat on the couch opposite Monroe.

  “So you’ve explained it then?” she asked calmly.

  “No,” Monroe stared at her, “I was just about to, but since you’re the expert…”

  Jenny smiled timidly up at Conn, “Hardly the expert. What’s affecting you is unique to Walkers, but I’ll explain to you what I’ve discovered through my studies thus far.

  The rut in say an Elk is typically triggered by the shortening of days. He is urged by the desire to ensure that his seed is passed on. He’ll fight for a harem then fight to keep it. This ensures that only the seed of the strongest and most virile of the male species is passed on. Survival of the fittest if you will. Often times, a bull Elk will be so pre-occupied with the rut, the need to mate, and the protection of his harem, that he often foregoes eating, drinking, even sleeping for days.”

  Conn was livid, “Are you people serious? You’re comparing me to a fucking Elk.”

  Jenny shook her head, lifting a tiny hand, “It’s just an analogy.”

  Conn pointed to the window angrily, “Do I need to point out that it’s the middle of winter. The days aren’t getting any shorter sweetheart!”

  Bishop, who stood behind his wife pulled his lip back in a challenging snarl at Conn’s endearment.

  “Yes,” Jenny began, “but the Walker affliction isn’t triggered by the seasons, it’s triggered by introduction to your angel.”

  Conn dipped his head to frown at the Doctor, “She is not my angel.”

  “No,” Jenny smiled hopefully, “but she will be. From what we’ve discovered Walker mates are pre-determined, pre-destined, it’s…well…fate!”

  Conn shifted his eyes from Jenny to Monroe, “Do you honestly expect me to buy this bullshit?”

  Monroe, who’d been smiling throughout Jenny’s explanation sobered. “Think what you like Conn, but what she’s telling you is fact.” Monroe stood then and looked from Conn to the other Walker males in the room. “King, Bishop, hell even I have experienced what you’re going through.”

  “You have no idea what I’m going through.” Conn stepped forward in challenge, his hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles shone white.

  “Really,” Monroe scoffed. “Eaten anything good lately?” Monroe pinned him with cold blue eyes. “Eaten anything at all lately?”

  Then Bishop chimed in, “When’s the last time you were able to sleep?”

  “Better yet,” King piped up, “tell me your gut reaction if I were to threaten to take Aries from your supervision and keep her here in one of the holding cells.”

  Conn turned to King, his body hunching into a near crouch, “Don’t fucking threaten what’s mine King, or I’ll turn you into a queen.”

  Monroe’s bark of laughter cut through the tension. “You see!”

  Conn’s angry eyes held King’s a moment longer before he turned to scowl at Monroe who carried on unperturbed by Conn’s obvious dislike of the direction the conversation was heading.

  “How else can you explain your attachment to her? You’ve only just met. You’re feelings shouldn’t be this strong.”

  “I have no feelings for her.” The rough words were ground out between clenched teeth.

  Monroe’s brows hiked as he scoffed at Conn, “Really? “

  “Really!” Conn challenged.

  Monroe didn’t take his eyes from Conn as he spoke, “Stubborn ass Walkers, always forcing me to prove what you already know.”

  Monroe stood and strode casually back to his desk before taking a seat and lifting his pen before re-arranging the paperwork he’d previously set aside. He dropped his eyes to the paper work dismissively and spoke without looking up. His humor at the situation gone, he spoke with seriousness. “Per your revelation to her in the jungle, Ms. Bracken is now threat to Walkers. She’ll be imprisoned here at StoneCrow until such time that I deem she is no longer a threat.”

  Conn covered the distance to Monroe’s desk in three quick steps that had King uncrossing his arms and readying himself to defend the CEO.

  Conn ignored the Walker Sentry and braced his hands on Monroe’s desk. “I understand you’re used to playing your little games with the so-called men,” his eyes darted to King then back to Monroe, “under your employ. But make no mistake Monroe, I am not under your employ. I am not threatened by you, and I am not going to tolerate your fucking threats or your games.” Conn straightened, “And as far as Ms. Bracken goes, I have received no payment for her delivery. Therefore, she belongs to me and with me is where she’ll remain until such time as I deem it unnecessary.” Conn turned and stalked angrily from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Monroe lifted his head to stare at the door as a faint smile touched his lips.

  King spoke then, “You want me to take a team and relinquish him of his custody?”

  Monroe’s smile widened and he dropped his pen to steeple his fingers over his desk, “No King. I think one more night together will put Conn just where we want him.” His smile faltered as he turned to eye Jenny, “Any idea on why she’s in pain?”

  “Not without examining her. She has no outward sign of injury, but something is definitely wrong. Funny though, she doesn’t seem to notice. It’s like she’s lived with the pain so long that it’s normal to her.” She pursed her lips, “I need to run tests. Problem is, he’s like a dog with a bone.” She jerked her head toward the door, “I don’t see him bringing her back to the infirmary.”

  “He’ll do it.” Monroe eyed Jenny, “She’s his, he’ll want her healed.”

  Chapter 11

  Conn ignored the elevator, opting
instead to take the stairs—two-at-a-time—up to the penthouse of StoneCrow Manor. At the landing, the carpet changed from dark blue to a rich crimson that covered the expanse of the top floor. To his left was the elegant ballroom that housed the estate’s many celebrations and festivities. Straight ahead was the estates fine dining establishment, which was currently closed. Conn’s head snapped to the right and locked on his intended target. He strode angrily across the plush flooring toward the Crow’s Nest, the sophisticated pub that was open round the clock.

  Inside he ignored the few couples sprinkled around the room as they watched him enter. Walkers and their angels. He could smell them, feel them.

  Angels and Halos! He snorted, always having found the terms ridiculous. He’d always known that when a Walker found his angel, his mate, he’d gift her with his halo and bind her to him, but he hadn’t been informed of the so-called ‘affliction’ that was apparently now assailing him. He’d been prepared to rip King apart when he threatened to take Aries. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so enraged. Aries.

  He’d never admit it to anyone else, but he’d already considered gifting her his halo, not to bind her to him, but because a Walker’s angel experienced a transformation with the acceptance of the halo. Like their Walker mate, angels would become immune to illness and would be able to communicate with their Walker mate through the mystic, the mist for short. It was a telepathic means of communication that Walkers shared. Both would be valuable assets for his Aries to possess. His Aries? He cringed inwardly at the possessiveness he felt toward her. Truth be told, he’d considered gifting her his halo just to heal the pain she refused to acknowledge she was in.

  Hearing laughter, he turned to frown at a Walker and his angel nestled in a corner booth. The couple was engrossed in conversation, smiling at each other. He wondered what it would be like to be sitting in the intimate setting enjoying Aries’ company.

  Conn’s eyes flicked to the silver band around the woman’s throat then to the matching brand around her Walker mate’s thicker neck. A Walker’s halo branded him as it left his throat. The thick raised scar was hideous looking, but no Walker who’d claimed his angel seemed to mind the permanent proof of his claiming.

  He made his way to the bar and sat down on a stool.

  “Commander Drago, what can I get ya?”

  He eyed the petite woman with short black hair, “Do I know you?”

  “Nah,” the woman finished drying the glass in her hand before throwing the bar towel over her shoulder and setting the glass on the bar. “Name’s Cindy. Cindy KillsPrettyEnemy.”

  He recognized the last name and knew instantly that the woman was angel to RedKnife, the renowned sole indigenous Walker at StoneCrow. He exhaled slowly, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to converse either.

  “Hey,” Cindy’s laughing tone intruded on his thoughts, “drink this, it might help.” She slid a rocks glass filled with ice and amber liquid across the bar and motioned with her chin toward the drink.

  Conn lifted the glass and drank down the contents in one swallow. His throat burned and his eyes watered as he fought to keep from retching. He swallowed several more times before he was confident the spirits would stay down. Then he pointed at the glass indicating he wanted a re-fill.

  Wordlessly, Cindy topped off the glass, a knowing smile tilting her lips.

  Conn tossed back the second drink and slammed the glass on the bar before clutching a hand to his abdomen. His body was rebelling against the forced consumption. He sucked in a breath against the pain even as Dr. Arkinson’s words tumbled around his mind, ‘Often times, a bull Elk will be so pre-occupied with the rut, the need to mate, and the protection of his harem, that he often foregoes eating, drinking, even sleeping for days.’

  She’d said that a rutting Elk would forego eating or drinking due to his pre-occupation. She hadn’t warned that for afflicted Walkers eating and drinking would actually be physically painful.

  It doesn’t make any fucking sense. None of it does!

  He pointed to the glass again and Cindy grabbed the bottle hesitantly, “You sure?”

  He didn’t look up, simply pointed to the glass again.

  Cindy re-filled the glass then set the bottle on the bar next to Conn’s arm. “Well Commander, we’re all delighted to have you and Aries here at StoneCrow. I’m sure you’ll both adapt well.”

  Conn lifted the full glass to his lips and eyed Cindy warily over the rim as he took a cautious sip then winced and set the glass back down. “I’m not staying.”

  Cindy, who’d been moving away from the Commander stopped and turned to stare at him, her brows hiking in disbelief, “And Aries?”

  “She wishes to go home.”

  Cindy walked slowly back to the bar and leaned on it, “Home? I understand that no one’s quite sure where exactly her home is.”

  “South America.” Conn answered gruffly.

  Cindy leaned her elbows on the bar and smiled at him, “She’s not from South America. That may be where she’s been hiding, but it’s not where she’s from. It’s not her home.”

  Conn’s angry eyes met the small brunette’s, “And you know this how?”

  The woman shrugged carelessly, “RedKnife says she smells of winter, which means she’s from the North.” Her eyes slid to the snow that still fell heavily outside the window’s that lined one wall of the pub. “From here maybe.”

  Conn gritted his teeth and kept his mouth shut. The thought of RedKnife getting close enough to scent anything on Aries had his hackles rising. “Regardless,” he bit out, “South America is where she’d like to return to.”

  Concern marred Cindy’s perfect features, “And you’re going with her to protect her right?”

  Conn felt his anger rise. “Protect her from what?”

  Cindy shook her head in disbelief, “RedKnife says she’s being tracked. It wasn’t just us. Someone else is hunting your woman.”

  Conn fought to control the anger and fierce possession that seared through him at the thought of another hunting his Aries. “She is not my woman, and she is not mine to protect.”

  The beasts within him raged in contradiction at the proclamation. They demanded a claiming, but Conn refused. He wouldn’t be linked to any one person indefinitely regardless of what his animal spirits or Monroe wanted. He was a man, he had free will.

  He looked up to find Cindy staring at him, her expression sad. “I feel bad for her. Forced so far from her home and on the run all alone. It must be hard for her.”

  Conn choked down the remaining liquid in his glass before rising, “She’ll be back home soon enough.”

  Cindy’s expression hardened, “That’s not the home I was referring to.” She frowned up at the Commander for several moments before her features softened, her brows lifting mockingly. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t want her I think I’ll introduce her to Remy McCabe. He’s been searching too long, and she’s too pretty to be left undefended. She needs someone to protect her, and she’s so beautiful it won’t be difficult for me to find a Walker willing to claim her. Remy’s a good man, a strong man, he’ll do just fine.”

  Conn’s fingers closed so tightly around the rocks glass he still held that it creaked under the pressure before it shattered. He hated Remy, despised the Walker.

  Every Walker knew of Remy as a lady’s man. He was ever on the hunt for his angel, more pre-occupied with finding her than with anything else. He’d sampled more flavors of women than Baskin Robins had flavors, and it was sickening. It was even rumored that Remy often attempted to seduce other Walkers’ angels. Conn gritted his teeth. He’d always wanted an excuse to bash Remy’s teeth in, and if the man came near Aries it’d suffice.

  Cindy looked at the glass in mock surprise, “Guess you’ve had enough Commander.”

  Conn didn’t respond, simply turned and left the pub with all eyes watching his departure. In the elevator, he tried to calm himself. He’d only ever met Remy once before, and knew f
rom stories told of the Walker that he’d great pleasure in protecting and seducing his Aries.

  Before he could control his rage he spun and slammed his fist into the back wall of the elevator, shattering the mirror and sending glass in all directions. Fucking Remy…I’ll kill him!

  He turned as the bell chimed signaling his floor. When he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirrored interior doors, he froze in shock. He’s craggy features were drawn so tight that he barely recognized himself. The white scar that slashed across his face seemed more pronounced by the fierce expression on his face. His shoulders were pulled back and his fists were curled into tight balls, ready for battle. He looked like he was going into combat rather than heading to his suite to try and get some sleep.

  Forcing himself to relax, he willed the tension from his body as he watched the scowl leave his brow. Aries. He knew she was the cause. Dr. Arkinson had been right. He couldn’t eat or sleep around her. And now he was ready and more than willing to track down poor Remy McCabe and erase the poor man from the face of the earth simply because another had implied that he might be interested in Aries should the two ever be introduced.

  Conn exhaled slowly and shoved a shaking hand into his short hair. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Everything all right in there?” RedKnife’s voice carried to Conn through mist, the telepathic means Walkers used to communicate with one another.

  Conn’s eyes lifted and locked on the surveillance camera that was positioned in the corner of the elevator. He didn’t respond, simply thrust his hand forward and caught the elevator doors before they slid closed. He forced them back open and exited the elevator before stalking the length of the corridor back to his suite, back to Aries.

  Once inside the suite he stalked to the refrigerator and yanked the door open causing condiments to rattle in the door. He wasn’t hungry in the least, but he knew his body needed the nourishment. He hadn’t eaten in days and the alcohol he’d forced down was having a strange effect. At least he prayed it was the alcohol. He’d been fighting the urge to rush back to Aries since the moment he’d stepped out of the suite earlier. He’d decided to fight his instincts and go to the Crow’s Nest for a drink, but now he was regretting the decision, because for some odd reason that he couldn’t explain he was seriously contemplating stalking down the hall to Aries’ room, kicking the door in, and claiming her.