Page 5

Chapter Five

Just outside of Denver, Colorado. Twenty-four hours later…

Gram shot another annoyed look in the direction of his captors. He’d not been kidnapped by bad guys.

No. It was far worse.

His own friends had done it. They claimed it was an intervention. He’d give them an intervention the second he got his hands on them all.

When he’d learned Striker was planning something involving Colorado and his cousins, Gram had assumed the pair would arrive at PSI and do something crazy, like show up with thirty women they’d hired to strip for him.

It wouldn’t have been their first time doing something such as that. They’d once hired two busloads of strippers for a week and holed up in a rented beach house. There had been endless booze, women, and partying. That had been years ago, but Gram grew tired thinking about it all. He wasn’t that same man anymore. He didn’t see women as he once did—something to get him off and find release with.

He’d grown up.

Matured.

And he wanted more from life than a quick fuck with a nameless woman who meant nothing to him.

Gram had every reason to be leery of the plans the McCrackens had cooked up to help him get on the mend. Nothing had happened at first, and Gram had thought he’d dodged a McCracken bullet. That the men had been tied up and unable to break away to stage their version of an intervention.

Nope.

He’d not been so lucky.

Striker hatched his plan bright and early in the morning. Catching Gram off guard. When Gram had gotten out of the shower (which meant he’d been clean a whole two days in a row—record-breaking for his last few weeks), he’d found a fresh set of clothing laid out on the bed and breakfast on a tray for him. He’d thought nothing of eating the food. Why would he? He’d been eating meals in the infirmary for weeks. He had no reason to worry about the food or what was in it.

The next thing he remembered was waking up on one of PSI’s jets, with his Shadow Agent handler and good friend, Armand, near him, reading over reports, and their good friend Cody, who was reading a book on poetry. The two acted as if it were no big deal that Striker had clearly slipped him something and they’d abducted him. Probably a horse tranquilizer, knowing the Scot.

Worse yet, upon landing in Denver at a private airstrip, the men were greeted by two PSI agents from the Denver office.

Not just any two operatives.

No.

These two just happened to be first cousins of Striker. The very same twins Gram had feared would show for him. They thought it was hysterical that Striker had one-upped Gram and managed to get him all the way to Colorado.

It wasn’t even noon yet and Gram was losing track of the number of felonies his friends were committing. Drugging him, kidnapping him, transporting him across state lines, unlawful imprisonment—the list went on and on. Though none of it would compare to the murders he was about to commit if they didn’t stop trying to help him.

He was fine.

He didn’t need help.

“Carbrey, if you do nae pull this SUV over, I’ll nae be held responsible for my actions,” he warned, his attention on the driver of the SUV. “I can promise you that there will be two less McCrackens to worry about. There are so many of you I do nae know if anyone will notice if two go missing.”

The six-and-a-half-foot-tall hulk of a man had a head of jet-black hair and a close-cut matching beard. Carbrey McCracken’s hair hung just past his shoulders and had several small random braids in it, typical for men who hailed from the same time period as Gram—like the McCrackens did.

The troops had been called in to help him heal his body and mind, and right now, they were driving him crazy.

“Did you hear that, brother?” asked Macbeth “Mac” McCracken, Car’s twin, as he gave the driver’s seat a slight shove from behind. “He’s going to inflict bodily harm on us.”

Carbrey and Mac were identical twins. They even kept their hair and beards the same length, making it hard to tell them apart unless you knew them well and memorized which tattoos went with which man. Their scents were very close, but Gram had learned centuries ago to pick up on the subtle differences. He’d also learned that trouble tended to follow the twins wherever they went. More than once Gram had found himself sitting in a cell, next to the twins, after a rather long night of hell-raising. Those days were long behind him.

If anyone counted twenty years ago as long behind.

He had a sneaking suspicion he’d end up behind bars again if they were around.

The pair seemed to be in a race to see who could tattoo more of their bodies. They also had a fair number of silver piercings, which confused him, seeing as how silver actually burned shifters. Both men could shift into wolves, so silver was not their friend.

Wouldn’t know it to look at them.

You also wouldn’t know they worked in law enforcement for PSI. They looked more like criminals. Hell, they probably broke more laws than criminals even.

Carbrey snorted and glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m up here shaking in my boots. Really. I do nae think I can keep driving. I’m that terrified of you, Campbell. You planning to glare at me? That’ll teach me. Hey, I have an idea. How about you shift shapes and come at me. Oh, wait, yer refusing to try to shape-shift. Pussy.”

“Yer an asshole,” snapped Gram, folding his arms over his chest and pouting. He didn’t care how juvenile it was. All he wanted to do was go home, shut himself in and lick his wounds—both physical and mental. “And I’m nae refusing to try, my wolf is giving me the finger.”

“Yer wolf is a dick, like you,” added Carbrey before grinning wide. “How about you shift and make me regret calling you out?”

“Goading me willnae get the results yer after,” said Gram evenly. “Unless death is the end game for you.”

The twins laughed more.

Mac’s cell phone rang, and the sound of bagpipes filled the SUV. Gram had a fairly good idea that meant Striker was calling. Mac answered and then laughed. “Oh, he’s awake now. Woke on the plane. We considered restraining him. Aye, he’s good and pissed with us. He’s been pouting for at least an hour or so now. I do nae think he’s much enjoying yer surprise getaway for him. No. I dinnae tell him it’s supposed to be loaded with hot chicks. Aye. He’s an ungrateful fuck. Maybe his cock is broken too. I dinnae think to ask. I know his wolf is. Hold on, I’ll tell him.” Mac lowered the phone and grinned at Gram. “Striker says get well soon and get laid.”

Gram flipped off Mac.

Mac snorted. “I cannae be sure but I think he just propositioned you, cousin. For the record, I’m better-looking than you. Why would he want you when he could have me? What do you mean, yer milkshake brings ’em all to the yard? I do nae have any clue what yer talking about, cousin. Are you high? Dipping in the same shite you slipped Campbell?”

Gram rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was in for a very long retreat.

Mac moved the phone from his ear and eyed Gram. “He’s now singing something about his lady lumps or humps. I’m Scottish and even I’m having trouble understanding him.”

“Do nae look at me. He’s yer kin,” said Gram.

“Do nae remind me.” Mac groaned and put the phone back to his ear. “What? No way is Carbrey better-looking than me. He’s an ugly fuck.”

Carbrey grunted from his spot up front behind the wheel. “I look like you.”

“No,” said Mac, holding the phone from his ear once more. “I’m drop-dead sexy. Yer nae.”

Armand, a vampire, and the only non-shifter male in the SUV, sighed from his spot in the front passenger seat. The SUV’s windows were treated with extra-strength UV protectant so that vampires could ride safely within during the daylight hours. Armand would have been extra crispy without the treated glass. “Children, am I going to have to break up another argument? It has been at least twenty minutes since the last one.”

“He started it,” the twins said at the same time.

“Enough, boys.” Armand reached back, much like a parent would while trying to deal with a toddler when driving, and took the phone from Mac. “Striker, the last thing we need right now is another Scotsman weighing in on this. The three with me now are more than enough. I really do not understand how your country survived all these years, not with the way you all behave. I’m frankly shocked Scotland was left standing after the McCrackens and the Campbells. How did it survive your clans at all?”

Carbrey waggled his brows. “The French are dicks.”

Armand ignored him and continued to speak to Striker. “We are en route to drop Cody off with his contacts here. I’ll join him to see what help I can offer. The twins will see Gram to the doorstep of the retreat. Yes. They will assure he remains there.”

“We’re babysittin’,” said Mac.

Car laughed. “Wolf-sitting.”

Gram gave them both stern looks, only serving to make them laugh more.

It wasn’t long before Armand appeared annoyed with the direction of his phone conversation with Striker. No real surprise. Striker brought out the best in most. He hung up and handed the phone back to Mac. He then turned in the seat and eyed Gram. “It’s a sad day when I realize you are by far the calmest and sanest of the Scots I know. These two make Striker look well-behaved. Not to mention Searc. He may be mated now but he is still a pain in my ass.”

Gram laughed.

Armand glanced at Car before continuing to speak to Gram. “Striker said something on the phone. Apparently, Garth told him that you’ve been seeing a woman in white and a ball on the meds you were being given. You never mentioned either to me.”

Being Gram’s handler meant that Armand was not only his point of contact in the event of an emergency, he was often Gram’s backup, and the one whom Gram got his mission briefings from. They’d forged a tight friendship over the past two decades. That being said, Gram had been a member of Garth’s PSI Team Eight for centuries before that. Old habits apparently died hard.

“Yer seeing a woman with balls wearing white?” asked Mac, an expression of sheer horror on his face.

Armand rubbed his temple, murmuring something about Robert the Bruce and William Wallace.

All the Scots in the SUV narrowed their gazes on the French vampire, waiting for him to dare to say more.

“William was a great lycan,” said Mac, lowering his head, putting a hand to his chest. “A moment of silence for him, please.”

Car went to lower his head too, but Armand shoved him.

“You are driving. Watch the road,” warned Armand.

“Yer already dead. Lighten up,” replied Car.

Gram shot the man a hard look. “Stop taking jabs at him being a vampire. That never ends well for you, or do I need to remind you about what happened when you pushed Auberi the last time he was out here?”

Auberi was another good friend of Gram’s. He was not only a trained physician but also a member of PSI’s Crimson Ops Division, which was full of vampires. The last time he’d been around the twins, Auberi had ended up tying the men together and leaving them bound before heading out to a club to party. No one could blame the guy. The twins no doubt pushed him into it all.

Car glanced at the rearview mirror. “Rumor mill has Auberi with a kid now. That true?”

Gram snorted. “Nicolette is hardly a kid. She’s a young woman who is mated to Garth.”

Mac gasped. “The Viking mated? Wait, Garth and Auberi do nae get along. At all. They’re now related?”

Armand grinned. “They are. Auberi has not only found himself an instant father of a grown woman, he’s found he’s now Garth’s father-in-law.”

The twins lost it, laughing so hard Gram worried Car would wreck the SUV.

“You’re all loud as fuck,” said Cody Livingston from the third row of the SUV. The large wereshark had managed to lie down with his feet propped on the back of the second row of seats. It didn’t look comfortable to Gram but to each his own. Cody leaned up, his blond hair piled into a messy knot on top of his head. The man always looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed and was on his way to surf.

Everything about him always seemed so laid-back, so carefree, but Gram knew better. He knew a fraction of the horrors Cody had been subjected to in his life. Frankly, he was stunned the man wasn’t in a corner crying or a homicidal maniac. It wasn’t like life hadn’t been doing its best to drive him in that direction.

Mac looked back at Cody. “Look. The shark lives.”

Cody lifted a hand and flipped off Mac.

“You wish,” said Mac. He then rubbed his jaw. “Livingston, want to tell me why it is yer even here? You Outcasts do nae generally mix in with us.”

Gram growled, disliking the term Outcast, even though Cody and the others like him who had been created by the government referred to themselves as such.

Mac put his hands up. “I’m nae saying anything against the Outcasts. I do nae like the way they were treated either, but I’m nae wrong. Cody has never come out here to work with us on a matter before. Why now?”

“When I heard Gram was being sedated, I didn’t want to miss it.” Cody remained reclined with his eyes closed as he answered. “Seriously, though. I got a call from a friend of mine out here. He’s an Outcast, too, named Ace. Asked me to put some feelers out, and it just happened that what he’s having me look into overlaps with Gram’s vacation, so here I am.”

“I’m nae on vacation,” corrected Gram. “I’ve been kidnapped.”

“We should stuff a gag in his mouth,” said Car. “I hear it’s all the rage with kidnappers nowadays.”

Armand eyed the man. “And I hear you enjoyed being bound. At least that is what Auberi said. Or was it not you who Auberi tied to a bed with full body paint that resembled the Union Jack? We all know how much you love England. How does one end up so drunk that they have no memory of getting naked with a vampire and then being covered in body paint and tied to a bed?”

Car’s eyes shifted to amber quickly. “I will eat you, vampire.”

“I am sure you like to think so,” returned Armand, clearly unafraid of the shifter male. No shock, since Armand was one hell of a powerful vampire.

Gram stared up front. “I’m curious how it is you ended up naked with Auberi, too. He never did say.”

Car cleared his throat. “We’re nae gonna talk about that.”

Mac cracked up.

“Brother, I will pull this car over and deal with you,” warned Car.

Cody groaned. “Seriously? This? Again? I’d rather go back to talking about my dick.”

Gram laughed. The twins had spent the first hour after meeting Cody grilling him with question after question on being a wereshark. It was evident they’d never met one before. They had gotten stuck on the topic of a shark’s dick, and what it may or may not look like in shifted form. Cody refused to show them.

Thankfully.

Mac glanced over his shoulder at Cody. “I swear I hear a bit of an Aussie accent when you talk sometimes.”

“You do,” was all Cody offered on the matter before lying back down and closing his eyes.

“He’s a real conversationalist,” said Car with a grunt. “The dead guy is more fun to talk with.”

“Thanks,” said Armand, glancing out the window at the Rocky Mountains in the distance. “It’s peaceful here.”

“You ever been to Denver before?” asked Mac.

Armand shook his head. “It is somewhere I have wanted to see but time has not permitted. How long have the two of you been out here?”

“Maybe twenty years or so. We were in New York for a while before that. And then prior to that we were pretty much everywhere,” said Mac. “Really thought we left behind the days of finding mutilated bodies on a nearly daily basis. That was way more New York style than here.”

Gram perked. Dead bodies? He hadn’t heard anything about dead people. “Wait. What’s going on?”

Car glanced back at him quickly. “That’s right. Yer nae up to date on what’s happening. We’ve got a serial killer on our hands out here. Targets women, ages twenty to thirty-five. Supernaturals. Brunettes so far. Signs of sexual assault and more.”

Armand tensed. “It’s partly why I am here, Gram.”

“They think it’s vampire-related?” asked Gram. “I’ve never heard of a vamp going on a killing spree out here. The local ones normally keep a close watch on their own.”

Car nodded. “Aye, but they do nae know who is doing this. And they want him caught as much as we do. It’s reflecting badly on them. And they do nae want our attention on them any longer than need be.”

“No. I’d guess they’d nae want that,” said Gram, worrying his jaw with one hand. “That settles it. I’m nae going to a retreat. Take me to the PSI offices here. I’ll help.”

Car glanced back at his brother. “It’s as if he thinks that will work.”

“He’s nae getting out of going to get better,” said Mac.

Armand nodded.

Gram groaned.

Cody laughed.