Page 43 of Blood & Bond (The Bouchers #2)

Lucy

T he sense of relief we’d felt when we’d found Zeke’s memory card and realized that he’d done so much research dwindled as it took longer and longer for the Boucher brothers to make any sense of the information.

It had been two weeks of studying the files and passing them around in the hopes that new eyes would see something the previous ones had missed, but it was no use.

Without the information available in Vampire Command’s computers, the Boucher brothers were stuck.

Rejoining their units was out of the question.

From what I’d gathered, it was pretty much unheard of for Vampires to separate from Vampire Command before they’d found their mates.

It was a bit of a scandal. Vampires wanted to know why Ambrose, Chance, and Daniel had quit.

They called Matilda and Erik throughout the day, both asking for answers and offering tentative congratulations in the hopes that either one of the parents would confirm that their sons had mated.

Since they hadn’t reported me or Daniel’s mate to their government, Erik and Matilda had decided to just tell everyone that they’d made the decision to leave Vampire Command because of Zeke’s death.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the truth, either.

All of us were becoming stir crazy. We were cooped up in the house with little to do and no idea when all of it would end. When you added in the stress the males were under, the house was pretty much a powder keg.

On the fourth day, Reese had walked outside and screamed at the top of her lungs in frustration.

I didn’t blame her, considering that she’d been there almost twice as long as I had.

I would’ve applauded, but within less than a minute, a Vampire I didn’t recognize had come running from the woods, his gun drawn.

Reese started screaming for real, Beau had lost his ever-loving mind, and the Vampire had gone back to the perimeter with his tail tucked between his legs.

He’d thought that something had happened and left his post, which was both admirable and stupid.

No one had let out their frustration that way again.

Instead, we’d started jogging. I fell back into the swing of it pretty easily.

I’d always enjoyed being in shape, but Reese and Matilda moaned and groaned like they were being tortured.

They still came with us, though. Sometimes Beau ran with us, sometimes Erik.

Occasionally, Ambrose came. I liked those days best.

After Charlie got Zeke’s note from his files, he’d been pretty low.

He spent most of his time in bed, wrapped in Zeke’s quilt like a burrito.

Matilda had kindly urged me not to push him for more than he could give.

She spent hours in Charlie’s room, just sitting with him in the quiet.

One day, she re-stitched the scar that Zeke had left on the quilt, not even bothering to take it from Charlie.

She’d found it down by his feet and neatly repaired it while he was wrapped in it.

Charlie’s depression weighed heavily on me, but I tried to remember that he was surrounded by people who loved him and, eventually, he’d be interested in joining the land of the living again.

We made sure he ate and showered and spoke to at least one of us a day, but beyond that, he felt out of reach.

It left a hole that I struggled to fill, but I was learning to let go a little. It wasn’t easy.

It helped that Ambrose and I were nearly always together.

Even when he pored over Zeke’s documents, he was never very far away.

I sat with him while he worked, watching movies, reading books, and doodling on one of the multiple sketchbooks he’d ordered for me.

Dinner was always a family affair, but afterward was just for us.

We showered together, driving each other crazy until we either gave in and had sex against the wall or stumbled out to the bed or whatever other piece of furniture we bumped into.

We’d had sex in every inch of the apartment, and we’d discovered every inch of each other’s bodies.

It was a small bright spot during those gloomy days when nothing felt like it was going right.

A pall had fallen over those of us in the house, no matter how we tried to avoid it. Every day seemed closer to some new confrontation, but we had no idea which direction it would come from. Frustration and worry built.

It didn’t help that Sven still hadn’t woken up, and Alice had become a shell of herself.

Her mate lay quietly sleeping, but I wasn’t sure if she’d slept more than a few hours since the house had been attacked.

She repeated over and over again that he just needed time, but the rest of us had begun to wonder if Sven would be a casualty of Finau’s deception.

Danny seemed to be the only one of us that hadn’t fallen victim to the gloom.

He was constantly moving, constantly talking, constantly disappearing.

He didn’t mention his mate—ever—but I knew he must’ve been seeing her somehow.

I couldn’t imagine how they managed to stay apart as much as they did. We didn’t even know her name.

Something was strange about that whole situation, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask about it.

With someone out there kidnapping and torturing mates, I didn’t blame him for being cautious.

In the darkest parts of my mind, I was glad that he hadn’t introduced us to her.

It would be one less person for me to mourn if something bad happened…

and it would be information that I wouldn’t be able to give if I was ever taken.

Ambrose had taken me down to the home gym off the garage once I was fully healed.

It had everything you could possibly want in terms of exercise machines and weights, but I’d been most glad to see the sparring mats and punching bag.

My skills had gotten rusty. It had been pure luck, desperation, and a little muscle memory that enabled me to crawl out from under the man I’d killed, but I wasn’t willing to bet on those things again.

Every morning, we sparred in the gym. Beau and Reese joined us. Reese clearly hadn’t had any professional training, but she was scrappy as hell, and she fought dirty. Both of those things worked in her favor.

Sometimes Reese and I grappled, but not often.

Based on what we’d seen so far, the humans we were fighting were male.

She needed to know how to fight off an attacker who was larger and stronger than her.

I taught her some moves that I thought were a good foundation, but she spent most of her time training with Beau.

Erik, Chance, and Danny joined us too, but because of the mating heat, I rarely sparred with any of them unless I fought a little dirty myself and ambushed them.

Ambrose was adamant that I spare myself from the burn, but I figured that if I ended up needing the skills again, I’d need to know how to navigate fighting while I was on fire.

I couldn’t count on the fact that the heat would be secondary to everything else, like it had been the night we’d been attacked.

The chances were that they wouldn’t try a full assault the next time, and I’d be caught unaware.

Even a split second of hesitation could mean the difference between escape and torture.

Walking with casual nonchalance across the gym, I glanced over to where Ambrose was glaring at me, a bottle of water halfway to his lips.

He shook his head slowly.

That’s when I pounced.

I’d found that grappling with Erik wasn’t as bad as with Chance or Danny, so he was usually my target.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I gripped him with my legs as he roared in surprise.

It was always trickiest when I attacked without taking his legs out from under him first. I never won, but at least when he was already on the mat, I didn’t have to try staying on his back while he attempted to throw me off.

“No mercy!” I yelled.

Erik paused to laugh, and I settled myself more securely on his back.

“You’re a menace,” he said, reaching backward.

I knew he was trying to grab my armpits. That was what he always did. So I squirmed and jostled around, avoiding the move, and stupidly lost my secure grip on his back.

The minute he felt me loosen my legs, he bent quickly at the waist, and, using my T-shirt, flipped me over his back.

I landed on the mat with a thud, the wind knocked completely out of me.

“Pathetic,” Chance called from across the room.

“ You’re pathetic,” I wheezed, staring at the ceiling.

“She can’t best me,” Erik said conversationally, looking down at me. “Yet, she keeps trying.”

“I’ll get you one of these days,” I gasped. “Old man.”

“Doubtful,” he replied, crossing his massive tattooed arms across his chest.

“Can you breathe?” Ambrose asked as he pulled me to my feet.

I coughed and nodded. “Yep. Totally fine.”

“Good.”

Before I could even plant my feet, he’d swept them out from under me, and I landed on the mat again.

Then it was on.

I loved wrestling with Ambrose. Not only did I enjoy having his body pressed against mine, no matter the situation, but I also loved that he didn’t go easy on me.

After the first day, when I could tell he was testing my skill level, he’d never let me win.

We were careful not to cause any lasting damage, but otherwise we fought dirty.

Like the world was ending. Like it mattered.

Because it did. Knowing the correct way to strike a blow or take down someone who was prepared for the move was all well and good, but I’d gotten that man’s arms from around my hips by gouging his eyes out, not by doing some fancy maneuver.

By the time I tapped out, Ambrose’s legs were wrapped around mine, and he’d pinned me flat, his hands holding my arms above my head.