Page 48

Alessandro

HEYDAR, ASSAD, ANNABELLE, and I were the first to arrive at the event and last to leave. Even with me needing extra time to collect myself.

Never. Never has my fox had such a visceral reaction as when Wilhelmina stepped into that concrete cell of an entryway. One moment it was as if we were two sailboats listening to Dunne’s report of an approaching storm. The next moment we were hit by a rogue wave. As we began to take on water, a dozen or more vessels appeared from below the dark depths—their sails ripped, their masts splintered or gone, the waves shoveling more water into their drowning ships. Others had orange and red flames cutting through the thick clouds of black smoke puffing out from below deck. Green, yellow, blue, pink, and purple swirls of their shifter energies oozed over the water’s surface like an oil spill.

When a multicolored wave splashed that water up on deck, it slithered toward not just Fragolina but my fox, seeking us out. It puddled under our paws, and that was it. One bit of contact, and all their pain, their memories, their suffering was sucked into us, their shifter energies having been so thoroughly traumatized that they were splintering off from their physical forms. Sensing Wilhelmina’s and my royal energies, they made a mad rush to our ships, instincts telling them we had the capacity and capability to hold and repair what was damaged. But we couldn’t save them. Not at that moment. Not at sea, so to speak. We’d need to anchor in a safe harbor, remove them from the water, and work on each one individually over many days. And we’d need a port full of royals to effectively save these shifters.

Being asea and knowing we’d have to leave them, that we couldn’t save them, a feeling of helplessness is what had my fox acting out. He brought down our sails and started the motor, readying the royal shields to protect Fragolina as she prepared to launch her royal offensive attack.

My shock over my fox’s actions gave him the opportunity to seize more control. If not for Assad’s and Heydar’s tigers, and cazzo , I must admit Xander’s wolf, it would have been a true mental battle for control, one I never thought would be necessary. I came to lying on my back on the floor of the hotel room between the coffee table and the flat screen, with Assad and Heydar holding me down and Annabelle standing over them, a hand on each brother. The concerned voices of Asher and Naomi were muffled by the whooshing of blood through my ears. Once settled, I thanked my guards and their mate, then kept myself in the background, like a picture on a wall.

When the feeds ended, I had the recordings all untraceably sent to mio padre . Annabelle did the same with her padre . I quickly showered and redressed for the evening, using the tasks to pull myself together. But it was searching for the Pokémon stickers that truly centered me, a playful distraction for both my fox and me, calming our minds and evening out our temperaments.

“So we got what, a month and half?” Jimmy inquires, returning my focus to the boxing ring in the back of O’Sullivan’s where we decided to convene. He tosses a black O’Sullivan hoodie to Xander and one to Wilhelmina before making his way into the ring.

Both Xander and la mia stella are wet from their recent showers, wearing matching O’Sullivan wind pants, hers French rolled at the waist and ankles. As can be expected, Xander and Wilhelmina arrived last and left first. Based on the lingering cloud of his scent near the treadmills at the front of the building, I’d guess they needed to run some of their feelings out.

Xander stands bare chested, his back a mess of scars. He’s loosely holding his sweatshirt in one hand, watching his mate use her teeth to tear the tag off her sweatshirt before snatching up his and doing the same. Ignoring his questioning and slightly amused expression, she slips her sweatshirt on over her black sports bra. He nods and pulls his on. His fits perfectly. Hers is down to her knees. They’d make a cute pair if not for the worry and anxiety swirling in her tired eyes. Her mate sees it—sees her—and snatches the front of her hoodie, pulling her to him. She wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. He bands a strong arm around her back, while the other hand strokes her wet hair, his face smushed against her head, his jaw moving with soft whispers I cannot hear. She nods against his chest, her arms tightening their hold on him before slowly releasing. When her eyes open, they’re steady with determination. A small smile curves his lips, and he bobs his head while his hand trails down her back, guiding her up the steps and into the ring where Jimmy and Marcus are holding the ropes for them.

“That’s what Bordeaux said,” Xander states, strolling barefoot to the corner where Jax and Ethan are situated, both leaning against the ropes with two plates of pizza and water bottles at their feet.

“Yeah,” Wilhelmina scoffs as Xander twirls around and settles down on the mat with his back reclining against the padded corner. “Apparently they have all the”—her jaw tightens, and she flicks a furious gaze at me while her shaky hands work her damp tresses into a loose bun— “ specimen they need until the new year. The lab closes down for a week-long deep clean and then—” Wilhelmina abruptly stops, her face paling as her anger is doused by cold waters of fear. She gazes at Xander, and he extends his hand out to her, his bent legs already spread open in invitation. She slips her hand into his and somehow spins like a ballerina but plops down like a newborn fawn with her back to his chest. Ethan hands a plate with several slices of pizza on it to Xander just as Jax does the same for Wilhelmina.

I peek around the circle, and once again, like the time when the councilmen and we were gathering in preparation for dealing with Xander’s father, all eyes are on them—on how easily, how intimately they care for one another. She kisses Jax’s knuckles and takes the slice before rolling her eyes and grumbling. “Can’t forget about the whole holidays-are-the-times-we-spend-with-those-we-love thing, because you never know when they might not be there.”

“I spit in his coffee,” Jake announces, still in his waiter uniform of black trousers and a white button-down, lying on his side with his head in hand looking so relaxed, he could be on a yacht in the Mediterranean.

“That’s just...” Wilhelmina wipes some fake tears out from under her eyes and dramatically sniffles. “Just so sweet of you, Jakey.”

Tearing through a piece of pepperoni pizza, he bobs his head and heavily sighs, mumbling, “Thought about pissin’ in it, but then... overflow was a concern. Some faucets, once turned on, can’t be easily turned off.”

“Too far, Jake.” Marcus groans, swiping a dark hand down his face. He leans back against the ropes next to Jimmy and folds his muscular arms over his equally muscular chest, throwing Jake an arched brow. “Always going just a little too far. That’s why you strike out so much with the ladies.”

“Well, sorry,” he huffs, sliding his gaze and gesturing his half-eaten slice at Enzo, who’s sitting cross-legged with Naomi’s laptop in his lap and headphones on, watching the recording from earlier. “I can’t perfect the silent scowl like pretty boy over there—otherwise, I would ’cause it’s a waste on him. Just a feckin’ waste.”

Micky claps his hands. “All right, all right,” he says, pinning Jake with a reprimanding glare. “We’ve got to stay on track. Lots to discuss.” With a scratch behind his ear, he gestures a hand out to Dom who’s sitting in between Enzo and Naomi. “Dom had some thoughts, ideas that I think are worth listenin’ to, ways of going about this. Usin’ our minds not our fists.” He slides his gaze to Wilhelmina and hitches a brow. “Or claws and teeth.”

“Hey, I’m in agreement,” Wilhelmina proclaims, raising the crust in her hand, then pointing it at Micky. “But you didn’t feel those shifters. You didn’t get slammed with all their chaotic memories and feelings.”

“How they reached out, begged for help, begged to be mended and healed,” I lowly add, leaning farther back into the padded post and hugging my arms tighter around my waist. I drop my chin to my chest. “To know we could possibly help them but not at the time. To have them reach for us, and for us to not take hold of their extended hands and pull them from the cages holding them captive.” Inhaling a shuddering breath, I murmur, “ Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura .”

“ La calma è la virtù dei forti ,” Heydar comments, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. “We need to remain calm, to make the right decisions even when we’ve found ourselves in a darkened forest. A flashlight, not an axe.”

“Or you find their roots and infect them,” Dom says, his glittering green eyes circling the ring. “Inspired by Ghostbusters , I did a little research on biopharmaceutical companies and FDA violations. If we can get them shut down for a while, threaten their bottom line, their covert research will be put on hold.”

“Documentation is critical with the FDA and the EPA,” Naomi adds with a bob of her head. Her sculpted brows knit in thought as she absently spins one of her nose rings, bringing attention to the smattering of freckles over her rounded cheekbones. “I could try to hack their systems or—”

“Too risky,” Dom cuts in, and Naomi’s cheeks pinken with embarrassment. Enzo notices and gives Dom a nudge with his elbow. Dom turns furrowed brows to Enzo, who subtly tips his head to Naomi while removing the headphones and sliding the laptop to her. Dom looks to Naomi, and his cheeks pinken. “Right,” he grunts, ruffling his fingers through the unkempt mop on his head. “The idea is good, but I think going directly for them would be cause for suspicion. What if we went for their vendors, the ones in charge of the raw materials they use? Slip some mold into the processing facilities.”

“That widens the net of those affected,” Asher comments, drumming his long fingers on Naomi’s thigh. “People and companies that have nothing to do with this could lose pay or even their jobs, not to mention possibly stopping the processing of other medication. It would suck if someone couldn’t get their blood pressure meds because of this.”

“Rats,” Enzo mutters, and Wilhelmina’s body shudders. I swing my gaze between them, and Enzo raises a hand, arguing, “Hey, you and I know just how prevalent they are in the city.”

“I still hear them,” she whimpers, turning in Xander’s embrace to face her friend. Her fingernails scratch at her head through her damp hair. “I still wake up to the feeling of little nails scratching at my scalp and the sounds of their squealing as they tried to nip my ears and face.”

“Yeah, me too,” Enzo says, bringing his knees into his chest. “How they’d burrow in between us and crawl into our pant legs. How we started tucking our pants into our socks, and”—a wistful smile cuts across his plump lips— “don’t forget the barge.”

“Dude, it was a good idea!” Wilhelmina retorts, sitting up with wide eyes and a pointed finger. “You agreed it made sense. We were both scratched up from those vile vermin, and we were running low on hydrogen peroxide. It did work...”

“For like two hours!” Enzo exclaims, a wide smile crinkling up the long scar on the side of his face. “We were facing a Titanic decision when the lights of the harbor patrol flickered over our heads and we both dove in.”

She arches a brow. “No rats though, right?”

“No, just mild hypothermia,” he scoffs with a harsh laugh. And they just stare at each other, and I see their faces as they were then. The young street urchins covered in dirt and grim but freer than ever before, smiling and laughing while starving and surviving. “Anyway,” Enzo comments with a roll of his eyes. “Boston is full of rats. Maybe we could plant some around the offices, get pictures, and send them in anonymously to the FDA office in the area.”

“We still have to deal with the other threat brought up at dinner,” Xander adds, his gaze going to me and Annabelle. “When I didn’t readily agree to fulfilling the obligations of my father’s role, Bordeaux stated that he’d need to get others involved if I couldn’t. I had thought he meant other labs or packs, but he shook his head and mentioned making a bid for a federal grant—that the government would be highly interested in what they’re working on and what the potential applications could mean for the entire human race.”

Based on the sharp intakes of air and the shudders of those around me, we’re all seeing what Bordeaux’s casual threat could bring about: every one of our kind in cages. Xander’s eyes drop to la mia stella , and he wraps his arms around her, bringing her tightly into his chest. “And though Bordeaux gave us until after the new year, Dr. Fallon was not on board. He was close to either throwing a fit at the table or kidnapping Billie right there. He—” Xander abruptly stops and smushes his face into the crook of her neck, taking several deep inhales. After one more long, shuddering inhale, he lifts his head up, his face twisted in anger and anguish. “It was like he was dissecting her with his eyes. His fingers kept reaching out. When she went for a piece of bread, he did too, wanting to touch her any way he could.”

“Start with him and Bordeaux first,” Jimmy says with a chin lift to his padre . “See what Paddy can find on ’em.”

“Paddy?” Wilhelmina questions, her gaze narrowing in on il padre e il figlio .

Micky scrubs a hand over his head and then recrosses his arms over his chest. “Look, kid. I got family... family I distanced myself from when we adopted ya. But we’re still family... they got ways of finding shit out on people, ways of making people reconsider their priorities.”

“What the feck are you talking about?” Wilhelmina growls, her brows dipping. “And why would you need to distance yourself from them because of me?”

“They’re good people,” Micky starts.

Marcus arches a skeptical brow at him, scoffing, “They’re good people?”

Micky cuts a glare at him and then rolls his eyes. “They’re good people to have on ya side. And I do. I may have to reaffirm my loyalty.”

“Nope,” Wilhelmina interrupts with a slash of her arm through the air. “Don’t know what exactly you’re saying, but I don’t like it. I’m not risking you or anyone here.”

“Chances are we’re already at risk, love,” Ethan mentions, settling down to seated and pulling her legs over Xander’s outstretched thigh and into his lap. “They knew who you were, and they’re doing nothing to hide their intentions regarding you. I think it’s safe to say they’ve done their research; they know who is important to you and will play dirty if needed. Millions of dollars and decades spent without any major breakthrough, and they think you’re the key.” His dark eyes slide to me, and he raises his brows. “And if they get hold of one key, they’ll want more keys. Those eggs, the fertilization—I wonder if they’re trying to grow their own shifters to test on.” My stomach burns with the acid eroding away my insides at the thought.

“I can pay,” Xander offers, lifting his gaze to Micky and Jimmy. “If money will help, I’ll gladly pay. My father left plenty, and I have businesses and stock options. Cash means nothing when protecting family.”

“I want to know the conditions,” Wilhelmina asserts. “I want to know what’s at risk and what can be negotiated.”

Micky’s mouth opens, but Jimmy’s faster. “Fine,” he says, cutting a reproachful glare at Micky before looking at la mia stella with a nod. “I’d have wanted that option as well when I was younger. It won’t be bad. Trust us, they’re still family, and Micky’s kept in contact—kept up relations. Just couldn’t risk bringing them around you, not with the state checking in.”

“’Cause the state really looked after us,” Enzo sneers, then with a shake of his head, he blows out a breath. “As for the scientists knowing about shifters, I think destruction of evidence and making any witnesses unreliable is key.”

“What are you suggesting?” Dom inquires. Enzo lifts his gaze to Jake and gives him a crooked smile.

“I swear I saw them!” Jake yells, throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t care what anyone else says! I don’t care that I was trippin’ balls! She had three feckin’ tits! I swear to God! Full tits, not like three nipples. Three C-cup titties!”

“And yet no one believes you.” Enzo replies with a lilt to his voice, his eyes circling the group. “That’s what we’ve got to do with the scientist, the ones that know. Make them unreliable as witnesses.”

“By doing what, slipping them acid?” Dom lowly chuckles with raised brows.

“Or something,” Enzo agrees.

At that moment, a phone sounds with what I know as an Irish fight song, I believe “ The Foggy Dew .” Jimmy’s head snaps to his padre upon hearing the tune, and Micky grunts, slipping his hand into the back pocket of his blue jeans. He squints at the caller ID before flipping his phone open and inhaling deeply. “Yah.”

Whoever is on the line lets out a raucous laugh loud enough for all to hear. Micky’s lips curl up at the edges. Then I can only make out low murmurs and watch Micky’s face crease in confusion, his eyes scanning the room just when the steel door at the front and the one at the back creak open.

“Coz,” a voice hollers from behind me, toward the front of the gym. “If these locks are any indication...” he teases, a faint Irish accent lightening up his words as the overlapping cadence of feet pacing closer gives way to multiple people still hidden in the shadows. “Then yeah, I think ya need some help, eh?”