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You deserve a freaking Oscar for that performance, Giorgio thought grimly as he watched Enda sleep. Filled with tea and soggy biscuits, his mate’s face was relaxed, although even in sleep, Giorgio could see his body twitch and tremble, despite being safe in Giorgio’s arms.

Giorgio wasn’t embarrassed to admit when Enda started screaming, he’d been scared shitless. He had been in a deep sleep, worn out from the sex, the joy at claiming his mate and being claimed – and Enda had been happy, too. That hadn’t been fake, Giorgio knew it wasn’t. So, don’t go thinking you sent our mate into nightmares just by having sex with him, his hound grumbled. His animal side was worried, too.

Considering that thought hadn’t even crossed Giorgio’s mind, he just silently shook his head. We need to find out what’s going on with him, he sent back. Can’t you…you know…communicate with his bird and find out something that can help?

There was a moment’s silence, and then his hound said, our bird is very special.

Giorgio sighed. He expected his hound to be protective, but that wasn’t helpful. Our mate is special, full stop, Giorgio sent back. I’m not disputing that. But someone is after him, maybe more than one person, and there are so many holes in his story so far, it might as well be cheese. We need something to go on, something to track or trace. We have to do something, or our mate will never be safe.

That pause again. Giorgio wasn’t sure if his hound was communicating with his mate’s bird spirit or scratching his butt. With his hound, either was equally possible. He still wasn’t sure when his hound replied, You need to talk to our mate. We’re claimed now, and he said he would tell you details then.

I promised him twenty-four hours grace from talking, but that was before his nightmare. Can’t you give me anything to go on in the meantime?

No. There was no delay this time. It has to be Enda who does the telling.

Great, now my hound is being secretive as well. But Giorgio kept that thought to himself. It worried him, though, and Giorgio stayed awake as the night sky slowly lightened.

/~/~/~/~/

“I’d swear you’re watching the clock more than the television,” Enda said. It was late afternoon, and supposedly they were curled up on the couch, watching something mindless on the television. “You keep hovering, you’re worried sick, and while you’re not allowing me to read you, I can only imagine you think our twenty-four hour break I asked for is up.”

Giorgio felt his cheeks heat. His mate was remarkably astute. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I realize talking about anything in your past is likely to be unpleasant for you, but until I know what’s going on, I have to be on alert because I don’t know how I can keep you safe. We’re in Paris, supposedly the city of love, and you don’t even want to go outside. I understand you have fears, but until I understand what those fears are, I can’t help you, and I really want to help you.”

Enda nodded. He had been quiet for most of the afternoon, and as the evening had been getting closer, Giorgio was acutely aware of the time passing. Enda, on the other hand, seemed to be withdrawing into himself until Giorgio couldn’t handle the tension anymore. “Just speak, my precious little bird, and trust I can keep you safe.”

Curling his legs up under him, Enda said, “I really don’t know what you want me to say or how much of it might be useful.”

“Start with the warehouse,” Giorgio said. “You said that you thought you recognized the voice of one of the killers. The one who wanted you dead and all those other innocents as well.”

“I don’t know who those people were. I’d never seen any of them before.” Enda’s eyes met his, wide and honest, as though he was imploring Giorgio to look into his soul and see the truth. Giorgio already knew his mate wasn’t a bad person, but he held the gaze he was offered.

“I was pushed onto a plane with people I had never met before. I had no idea what they had in common, and it seemed like nobody knew each other either, except for a couple of people who were talking among themselves. Although they were quickly told to stay quiet by the four staff on the plane.

“Everyone was of different ethnicities, ages, and sexes, and I couldn’t pick any one thing that they might have had in common with each other or me. So, I don’t know…I genuinely don’t know why those people were brought together.”

“So, they weren’t all young victims like yourself?” Giorgio struggled to remember details of that night, but at the time, all he’d seen was the mound of bodies – the details were irrelevant, especially after he heard Enda whimper. It was possible that the people who had devised that setup had done it for that very reason.

“No, they were all different people. Some were even in business suits, and they weren’t happy about the lack of facilities on that plane.” Enda chuckled. “Seems like entitled people will act that way even when they’re on the point of death, although, of course, they didn’t know that at the time. The staff just told them they’d be taken care of when they got to their destination, and that seemed to keep them happy.”

Giorgio wondered what was said to businessmen to convince them to get onto what was clearly a carrier plane. They must’ve thought they were getting some kind of payoff…

“Some of the other people looked like they’d been plucked from the streets. None of it made any sense. The person that I was sitting next to was an older woman, and she didn’t say anything at all for the whole trip. We were on that plane for hours.”

“Okay.” Giorgio was trying to get a timeline in order. “And you were told to get on the plane for a job? So, we could assume some of the other people were told the same thing?”

“I suppose that’s possible, although I doubt those businessmen would’ve got on a plane with no proper seats for a possible job.”

Giorgio agreed. “How about we work from the warehouse backward? Who was the person whose voice you thought you recognized?”

“My father,” Enda said bluntly. “I don’t know who the second speaker was - the one who had suggested some of us weren’t dead - but my father was the one who said it really didn’t matter because the moment that we moved, we would be. I recognized that voice. I’ll never forget that voice.”

Giorgio had to trust that it was true, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to clarify something. “You said you hadn’t seen your father since you were ten.”

Enda nodded. “There’re just some things that stick with you, you know? And the moment I heard that voice, I knew who it was.”

“All right.” Giorgio didn’t know how much of a lead that would be, but it was a start. “Okay, so, you were on the plane, then you were in the warehouse. Before that, you had been on a boat. Do you know who owned the boat? Do you know the name of the boat?”

“The name of the boat was ‘Chameleon,’” Enda said. “But there’s a good chance it’s not called that anymore. As I said before, it was a large superyacht. It was well-staffed, but there were only three people who stayed longer than three months. The captain who ran the boat was an older man in his fifties. His name was Paul, and he never spoke to anyone other than the two permanent crew members – Ryan and Siegal.

“Siegal was responsible for making sure the rest of the crew were doing their jobs, including the boys who served clients, while Ryan spent most of his time in the communication room. I do know none of them owned the yacht because they referred to a ‘boss’ numerous times, but I never met the owner, either.”

No surnames, Giorgio noticed, but he nodded, encouraging Enda to continue.

“We would cruise into various ports all around the Mediterranean, Europe and the UK, dropping people off and picking people up at different ports. The only time we got a chance to go onshore was if one of the clients wanted company when we had docked for a while.

“Siegal gave permission on some occasions and not on others, but there was always a curfew for when we had to return. We, that is, the staff members, were never allowed to go on shore without a chaperone. I wasn’t allowed to go into port on my own or with one of the other crew members, for example.

“That was another thing” - Enda shifted in his seat - “I don’t know if this is relevant, but the crew was swapped out every three months. You just get used to seeing the same chef, the same boys who used to look after the rooms and clean them and the various other stuff. I mean, I don’t know. I didn’t have a lot to do with that. My only job was to serve drinks and look pretty.

“They were long days, and when I wasn’t working, I was curled up in a blanket in a bunk bed that wasn’t much bigger than a dresser drawer.” Enda shivered. “I hated that bunk.”

Giorgio hated that he had to ask, but he was still looking for a motive to all the shit Enda had gone through. “Were you expected to do anything else for the guests? Something of a more personal nature?”

“Did you mean sexual stuff?” Enda shook his head. “No. Apparently, I was too old for that.”

Frowning, Giorgio said, “Are you sure you got that sentence around the right way? I thought you didn’t go on the boat until you were eighteen.”

“That’s right, I didn’t. But I wasn’t to the clients’ tastes.” The words were completely free of emotion, but Giorgio felt every syllable.

“What were the ethnicities of the guests? Were they all Asian, all American, all European?”

But Enda was already shaking his head. “They varied. Mostly men, the occasional male-female couple. Never any women on their own. It was basically a floating party boat. The only thing that kept me going was hoping my grandmother was actually receiving pay for me. At least then I’d be able to pay for college when I was done.”

For a moment, Enda looked like any other hopeful young person thinking about the future. “I’d always hoped I could go to a real college in person, not just online classes like my grandmother had insisted on.”

I still don’t understand why you couldn’t go in the first place. There was no way Giorgio could promise Enda he could have that future without knowing why it had been denied him in the first place. Giorgio slotted that little piece of information into his sparse web of facts accrued so far, but there were still far too many gaps in a story that barely made sense. Enda was right in one point – he had no idea how much of anything Enda was sharing was relevant, but he had to know all he could.

“Think back to when you came home and found the two men in your apartment with your grandmother,” he suggested gently. “Did your grandmother seem scared of them? Was she respectful of them? Was she nervous around them? Or was she friendly? Did she ever introduce them to you?”

“My grandmother was an old and very traditional Japanese woman. She was quiet, respectful, nodded her head when spoken to, and didn’t look the men in the face. My grandmother reacted like that to any male figures she wasn’t familiar with. If she was nervous on my behalf, she wouldn’t have a chance to say so.”

Enda looked out of the window over Giorgio’s shoulder. “I don’t think she wanted me to go, in fact, I’m almost certain of it. But in that moment, especially looking back now, I think she was resigned to it. And then, as I said, I did try and call her that one time, but yeah. All those years hoping she was at least getting money from my work, and chances are she was dead before I got on the boat. Damn it.”

Giorgio had a nasty sinking suspicion in his stomach – people around his mate appeared to be dying. Speaking of which. “All right, so we need to go back even further then. What happened when your mother died?”

Enda’s face completely shut down. It was like he was wearing a mask, and he still wasn’t looking at Giorgio. Giorgio felt like a heartless monster, but he had to keep his mate safe, and that meant he absolutely had to know where the threat to his mate was coming from.

“As I said, up until I was ten, I used to travel every six months - six months in America, six months in Japan. In Japan, I lived with my mother and my grandmother in a small house. In America, I lived in a big house – many big houses. They were all over the place, and it was never the same city twice. All I knew as a child was that every house was huge.

“I barely saw my father during my time in the States. He would be there when I arrived. He would pat me on the head and tell me to be a good boy, and then he would disappear. There would be a nanny or a governess – the house was well staffed – and they would look after me until the visit was over.

“On average, from what I could remember, he would turn up maybe once or twice during my visit, and he would always be there on the day I left to go back to Japan. He would pat my head again, put money in my pocket, and tell me he couldn’t wait to see me again in six months’ time. That was my life until I was ten years old.”

There were so many red flags in what Enda was describing, Giorgio didn’t know where to start. “Did your father ever say anything derogatory about your mother or your grandmother? Did he ever suggest maybe keeping you full time?” Giorgio didn’t think it was likely, but he’d seen some weird shit in his time.

“No,” Enda said. “He never referred to my life in Japan, never asked about it, and I never heard him speak about my mother or grandmother. He had me for six months, and then he didn’t.” Enda paused for a moment and then added quietly. “I don’t think he cared either way.”

“So, what did you do when you were in your father’s house?” For every answer Enda gave him, Giorgio felt he had more questions. “You were only a child. Did you go to school or anything like that?”

“No. I remember playing on my own when I was little. When I was about five, I had tutors for most of the day, and in my free time, I had a playroom where I used to spend most of my time. I was never on my own, but I never thought anything weird about that at the time. Oh, and I wasn’t allowed outside, either. I remember thinking that was strange because some of the houses had lovely gardens, but I was told I wasn’t allowed out there in case I wrecked anything.”

A fucking prisoner from birth. The phrase flickered through Giorgio’s mind and disappeared just as quickly. But the more Enda said, the more Giorgio was coming to that conclusion. “Something must have changed. You said you were ten years old when you stopped going to your father’s. Did something unusual happen?”

Enda looked down at his hands, his mask dropping to the point Giorgio could feel the despair through their bond. “I thought everything was normal, sort of. My father had been home for a week, which was unusual in itself, but he still didn’t spend any time with me. I remember I was due to fly back the next day. My tutor, who was charged with looking after me for that visit, was ill. He kept running off to the bathroom and wouldn’t come out for ages. I got bored and went looking to see if Father was free.

“I was in his wing of the house when I heard yelling. He wasn’t yelling at me, but he was really loud and sounded so angry. I was almost at the door of the room where he was when he stormed out, pointing at me, and yelled, ‘Your mother’s going to pay for this’ as he went storming past. I had never seen anyone so angry – he was trembling with it, shaking his fists and still muttering to himself. I almost wet myself, I was so scared.”

Giorgio reached over, encouraging Enda into his arms and holding him close – his mate was trembling. “That must have been really scary as a kid.”

Enda’s nod was short and quick. “It was. But then the next day, when I was due to leave, my father came on the plane with me, which he’d never done, going with me back to Japan. The next day, my mother was dead.”

Shit. “How did your mother die?”

“Don’t. I just can’t right now. I never saw my father again. My grandmother packed our stuff, and we moved. I still wasn’t allowed to go to school, but she did help me all she could. She encouraged me to enroll in online classes when I was sixteen. I was learning graphic design.

“That was fun. The school was entirely online, and we were encouraged to use group chats with other students. I made online friends, like a little club, and we’d chat every day about all sorts of things, not just our schoolwork. And then…then it all got ruined.” Enda’s voice caught on a sob.

“I haven’t been in touch with any of them for years. The men came, and then the boat came, and I wasn’t able to get on a computer or a phone or anything else. And then you came, and I still haven’t been allowed to be on a computer or a phone or anything else.

“I do understand. My father thought I had died in that warehouse. And somebody in your organization knew that we were in that warehouse. So, you tell me, who in your agency has connections with somebody from America? Because doesn’t your agency operate out of Britain? Where’s the missing link? How does this all add up? Because it’s not all because of me – it can’t be.”

Enda was right, to a point. He might not have been the missing link, but Giorgio was sure he was a damned important one. Giorgio still couldn’t work out if Enda’s father was responsible for the deaths in the warehouse, why Enda’s body had been included. What did the father have against the son?

“Enda, what type of paranormal was your mother?”

“She was a bird shifter.” Enda’s head was down, and his shoulder tensed against Giorgio’s chest.

“And your father?” The tension in that shoulder increased.

“I think he was a mage, but I can’t be sure. He wasn’t a shifter, though. He had an unusual scent. I’ve not smelled anything like it before or since.”

“That’s an unusual combination.” Giorgio smiled to show that wasn’t a bad thing. “So, what type of bird does that make you? I know your name means little bird, but is your animal spirit really that small?”

To Giorgio’s surprise, Enda covered his face with his hands as he shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I just can’t. If I tell you, my father will kill you, too.”

What the fuck? Giorgio tuned into his hound. What type of shifter is our mate?

But his hound was standing like a concrete wall in his mind. Our precious mate has to tell us himself. You cannot take that away from him.

Focusing back on his mate whose face was still covered, Giorgio said softly, “Mate, beautiful Enda, I can’t die, and neither can you now we’re claimed. Fearing the actions of a random psycho is not a reason to hide the other half of yourself with me. Please tell me.”

“I can’t, don’t you understand. You’ll protect me, you’ll always want to protect me, you and your beautiful hound both. Then you’ll get hurt, and you can’t tell me you won’t die because all of us die in the end. My father will find a way to kill you!”

Pushing Giorgio’s arms away, Enda scrambled off his lap, running for the bathroom. The door slammed shut, and Giorgio heard the door lock turning. But that wasn’t what broke Giorgio’s heart – it was the crying he could hear coming through the door.