Page 16 of Ruthlessly Mated (Shared Mates #2)

“So this bothers wolves, does it?” I make innocent conversation. “Seems like it wouldn’t do anything much.”

“Oh, yes. They try to pretend it doesn’t hurt, but after thirty seconds or so, it’s absolutely unbearable,” he says.

“Strange,” I say, as the pain in my hand starts to reach a sharp peak. “And then what do you do with them? Shoo them away?”

“Unnaturals trying to access the city face capital punishment,” he says.

I nod. “So you shoot them in the face, or…”

“Depends what they do,” he says. “I’d like to shoot one in the face. Would rather get a vampire than a wolf though, you know. Wolves just bleed like people. Vampires crumble to dust.”

“ASMR,” I say.

“Exactly. The sound they make is really soothing.”

“You know, I’m actually very pleased to see this happening,” I say. “My parents were killed by vampires.”

“Were they now?” The guard is immediately interested.

“Both of them slaughtered in a single night. They died trying to protect me. I only barely got away with my life, and do you know I think the beast that killed them still stalks me. They don’t give up, vampires. They’ll hunt bloodlines for generations.”

“Hell, yes. And they’re not like wolves.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t like those mangy bastards either, but vamps are creepy in an entirely different way.

Real unnatural freaks they are, feeding on humans as their primary source.

That’s why nobody wants ‘em. Even those freaks in Eclipse City won’t tolerate vamps. ”

I draw in a breath. It’s not easy. My nervous system has started to scream as it feels like the coin is burning through my hand. My fingers, clenched tight around it, almost feel like they can’t actually move away from it. It’s like being very slowly electrocuted.

I’m starting to wonder if this plan maybe wasn’t actually the best plan.

“Doesn’t hurt, does it?” The guard narrows his eyes at me.

I laugh. “Hurt?”

Fuck, yes, it hurts. Hurts like being shot, but very, very slowly.

“I wonder what it feels like for an unnatural,” I say. “Have you ever caught one?”

“Oh, hell, yeah,” he says. “They can stand it for the first little bit, but then the tears start to well in their eyes. They can’t help it. Pain’s too much, I reckon.”

“What about if they sneak in other ways?”

“Well, there’s all sorts of traps. Can’t tell you them all of course, security issue, but I can tell you there’s colloidal silver in the water supply. Any unnaturals that sneak in here are going to have mighty sore tummies.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” I say admiringly, as my hand feels like it’s burning all the way up to my elbow.

Fortunately, a small convoy has pulled up behind us while all this is going on. Back in the rear, someone lays on the horn, then stays on it.

Thank god for impatient assholes. Whoever that is, is saving my whole entire life right now.

“Alright, go on through,” he says.

“Do we get to keep the coins?”

I’m not entirely sure I can actually let the fucking thing go without crying. My fingers are locked around it. I am holding myself together with sheer will power that will disappear the second I have to move too much.

“Sure! Enjoy the souvenirs!”

We drive through the checkpoint.

Damon leans over and gently unfolds my fingers, plucking the infernal coin from my palm and tossing it into the cup holder that always ends up doubling as a coin collector in any vehicle.

Conroy dumps his, shaking his hand out and rubbing the afflicted palm with his other hand.

“You were so brave,” Conroy says. “I am so proud of you. Such a stoic little thing.”

It is nice to be praised and looked after. I am not used to it. I usually have to take care of myself, and give myself a pep talk when I’ve done something particularly hard. I’m even more surprised to be praised by Conroy of all people. I thought he was going to tell me that I’d fucked it up.

“You were brave too,” I tell him. “You didn’t cry at all. I thought I was going to cry.”

“I wanted to,” he says. “Not because of the pain…”

“Not because of the pain,” I repeat, as if that’s true. It was definitely the pain. The pain sucked. I can still kind of feel it, but not because it still hurts, because I am pretty sure that my body is replaying the echoes of the pain. Shifting inside this city is going to be impossible.

It occurs to me that, aside from what Tailor said he did in the desert, we’re a wolf pack who have never actually shifted. I wonder if we’re really wolves at all.

“Not because of the pain,” he repeats. “But because I had to sit and watch you be hurt. Please don’t do that again. We need to leave this city as soon as possible. It’s a death trap for creatures like us.”

“We’ve had that talk already, and you’ve got to stop saying things like creatures like us , that really gives it all away. Just imagine you’re a normal person. Chill. It’s going to be fine. This is a very good idea.”

Conroy does not look convinced. He is a man out of his element. He should be back in a smuggler’s port, running a bunch of criminals for his own ends. He should be roughly dominating the landscape. Instead, he’s going to have to act real normal and real small for a while.

Rock City was always part of my plan. It is inaccessible to vampires, and I was hoping to lay low here for a couple of days to ensure that I had not been followed. I have been followed, obviously. That means I’m activating my extra contingency plan.

Rock City looks like a city. There’s a lot of red dust covering bits of it, and most of the houses are constructed in such a way as to keep the searing desert heat out. Lots of big arches and verandahs. Outdoor cooking is wildly popular. The whole place smells like a barbecue.

There’s a transport yard, where I plan to leave the truck. I’ve hired a spot for it. I’ve also gotten an apartment. It was supposed to just be for one person, but I guess the four of us can fit in there if we really try.

I park the truck and indicate for everybody to get out. “Come on, boys, we’ve got nothing to do.”

“Where are you unloading the cargo?” Conroy asks the question as if he expects this to be straightforward and over. I am going to disappoint this man so hard in so many ways.

“Nowhere. It’s not for sale here. I’m going to Eclipse, remember?”

“What’s in the shipping container?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. And don’t tell anyone about it either. And don’t open the back of the truck, for god’s sake.”

“I am very worried at this point,” Tailor says.

“Well, that’s something to work on. Like a self-development sort of thing. Alright. Let’s go to the apartment. It has great views.”

Conroy

She’s acting like we’re on vacation.

This is truly ridiculous. Yes, we may be evading Alexander for the moment, but at what cost?

And what the hell is in the back of this truck?

I need to get control of the situation. The price of letting this girl get her way is multiple instances of torture at the hands of people who do not deserve to be anywhere near power.

“Come on. The place is nice. And it’s a walk away.”

This is not a safe place for us to be. Every person in this city hates each and every one of us. The very water is poison. And this little mate of ours is practically giddy to be here.

She leads us up through the streets, to a building atop another building.

“I rented this place for a couple of nights, but we can extend it if we need to.”

It is a one-bedroom bricked dwelling daubed with mud. I don’t actually particularly care what it is made of. We have nothing but the clothes on our backs, and the prospect of further nonsense at the mercy of our mate.

“We’re going to go for a walk,” I tell her. “We need to get a lay of the land.”

“Okay. Be careful. Don’t get murdered.”

Damon stays behind, while Tailor and I go for a walk together.

My first reaction to realizing I was going to have to share her with the others was not good, but now I am glad I am not doing it alone.

I don’t think anybody would survive Kita on their own.

Maybe Damon. He seems to be able to survive pretty much anything.

“Do we have a destination in mind?” Tailor asks the question.

I can see him eyeing shops that line the main street we’re walking down.

He wants to buy some clothes. One of his regular laments about living in Port Denhome was not being able to get decent clothes, which never seemed to stop him from being impeccably attired.

No Fangs

There are signs everywhere indicating the general distrust and dislike of unnaturals. It’s interesting to be in a city entirely designed around hating other creatures. I’d be offended, but it would be a waste of time.

“We’re going back to the truck,” I tell him. “We’re going to find out what’s inside, because I need to know why we almost died. I want to know what she is up to.”

“She said she doesn’t want us to look,” Tailor says.

“What she wants doesn’t matter. We need to know.”

“I don’t think opening the back of the truck in this city is a good idea. I think we need to get out of here as soon as possible,” he says. “If we don’t know what’s inside… what if it is alive? What if it jumps out the moment we open the door?”

We are already back down by the truck, which does blend in well in the transport yard. She planned this well. I just wish I knew what exactly it was she was planning.

We go over to the truck, where the shipping container is still in place. I go to the rear while Tailor murmurs about what a bad idea this is, and I unlatch the back stays of the truck. The doors swing open to reveal…

A second set of doors. These ones are bolted shut. A storage container in a storage container.

“She must have a key on her.”

“I knew you were doing something shady!” Kita explodes out of the shadows, bristling with annoyance. “What are you doing! I told you to stay out of there!” She runs up and slaps me on the arm almost hard enough to hurt. “This is my shipping container. Mine!”

“I don’t like your tone, little mate.”