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Rise of the Changelings, Book 6

Rise to Fall

Salvador is an ancient vampire who has come to America to settle
a score with Kraven, the master vampire of Hamilton County.

What he hadn't expected was to find his mates.

John Freedman, formerly the leader of the Death Squad, must
save Omar from the government, who is holding him in the last

remaining detention center. When a stranger shows up claiming
he wants to help, Freedman isn't so sure he wants the man

anywhere near him—especially considering the fact that Salvador
is a vampire.

Omar Reed is in a truly messed-up situation. His parents had been
less than understanding, and then his alpha knocked him down to

juvenile status, an insult to any changeling breed. Worse yet,
Omar was captured and experimented on by a sadistic scientist.

As the war against nonhumans becomes critical, the three spend

most of their time just trying to stay alive, but there's plenty of
chemistry between them to take up the rest. Can they find enough

common ground when their clothes are on to last forever?

When Dorian is critically wounded, no one is sure if he will live or

die, until Salvador offers a choice that just might send Rick over
the edge.

NOTE! You are purchasing Siren's newest imprint, the Siren Epic
Romance collection. This is Book 6 of 7 in the Rise of the
Changelings series. The series shares an overall story arc with

many crossover characters playing major roles in each book.
These books are not stand-alone and should be read in their

numbered order.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 72,850 words

RISE TO FALL

Rise of the Changelings, Book 6

Lynn Hagen

SIREN EPIC ROMANCE,

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Siren Epic Romance, ManLove

RISE TO FALL
Copyright © 2013 by Lynn Hagen
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-200-5

First E-book Publication: March 2013

Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
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express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Rise to Fall by Lynn Hagen from
BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank
you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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RISE TO FALL

Rise of the Changelings, Book 6

LYNN HAGEN

Chapter One

“Die, you son of a bitch.” Rick mercilessly drove the blade into

the changeling’s throat with a heavy thrust, grunting as he used his
boot to push the man away from him. The loud explosions sounded all
around him, but he kept moving. The mercenaries had infiltrated the
small town they had settled in for the night, and Rick was determined
to show them that violence, despair, and death were going to be their
only reward.

They finally had the upper hand in this war and Rick was not

going to lose that edge.

Dorian was off to his right, his skills with a gun first-rate. It

amazed Rick how much his mate had learned since the war between
humans and nonhumans had begun. The man was an expert shot now,
able to take down a target long range.

“More mercenaries are moving in,” Benito warned.
“Let them,” Rick replied furiously. He grabbed his rocket

launcher from the ground where he had dropped it and hoisted it up
onto his shoulder. Focusing, he aimed at the approaching convoy and
fired. Both Rick and Benito dropped to the concrete when gunshots
sprayed over their heads, but the loud blast told Rick he had hit his
mark.

Lynn Hagen

It had been six months since Rick had gone on-air. He had

announced to the world about the government’s plan. They wanted to
unleash a virus that would not only make the entire world sterile, but
it would take away the changelings’ ability to shift into their beasts. It
would also give humans cancer.

At first, nothing had come from his broadcast, but slowly, over the

past few months, Rick noticed a shift in the war. There were fewer
soldiers out here fighting, more Rebellion groups forming, and they
were finally winning.

But the number of Breed Hunters—groups of humans hell-bent on

killing anything nonhuman—hadn’t declined. Figures. Cockroaches
were hard as hell to kill.

Currently, Rick and his Rebellion group were fighting changeling

mercenaries—his own fucking species who decided they liked money
more than keeping their species alive. They were paid by private
corporations to kill as many animals as they could.

But once Rick had made his on-air announcement, Dyson

Pharmaceuticals, the leading company funding the mercenaries,
backed out, withdrawing their funds as well. To say the mercenaries
were pissed was an understatement. They seemed to be crawling out
of the woodwork and coming after Rick with a hard-on.

“Running out of ammo,” Benito warned. “Tell me you got extra.”
“Nate!” Rick called over to his top enforcer, who was currently

fighting two changeling mercenaries. Nate was a big man, huge even
by changeling standards, and able to do some serious damage when
pissed off. When the werewolf changeling glanced Rick’s way, he
asked, “Got any extra ammo?”

Nate finished off the two he was fighting and then tossed Rick

two clips. Rick caught them midair and handed them off to Benito.

He caught sight of his mate, Dorian, heading Rick’s way, a look

of determination and panic in his Peruvian-brown eyes. Rick
immediately scanned the area, his heightened changeling senses
searching for the cause of Dorian’s alarmed expression.

Rise to Fall

They may be fighting mercenaries, but Rick knew Dorian

wouldn’t let that worry him. It had been over a year since Dorian had
been arrested for three murders he didn’t commit. In that period, the
man had proven time and again he had a steel backbone.

“What is it?” he asked when Dorian drew close. Rick didn’t like

to see anything but a smile on his mate’s face. Anything else was
offending to his senses. Since mating Rick, Dorian hadn’t had a
peaceful night’s rest. He could tell it was wearing on his mate. The
dark circles under the man’s eyes were testimony to that. Dorian was
quieter as well, despite the joviality he sometimes displayed.

He knew his mate. After over a year of living with their growing

bond, he knew Dorian like the back of his hand. Something was
changing in the man, and Rick wasn’t certain it was for the better.

“The mercenaries are running.”
Rick set the rocket launcher on the ground beside him and picked

his rifle up, checking the clip. “That is a good thing.”

Dorian shook his head, his eyes flickering around the area. Rick

hadn’t seen Dorian this nervous since they first starting running from
the madness. Even as Dorian spoke, a strange sense of dread entered
Rick’s mind. “Something has spooked them.”

Stilling, Rick glanced around as well. He was now on high alert,

wondering what had scared the changeling mercenaries. “Do you
know what frightened them, gatito?”

Dorian gave a quick jerk to his head. “No, but I saw them scenting

the air before they took off.”

“Damn strange,” Benito said as he stood, glancing around the

small town. “Maybe they smelled their money slipping from their
fingers since the big corporations are backing out of funding them.”

Even with the dead bodies scattered all around him, Rick could

scent another kind of death, a decaying smell that only came with the
oldest of graveyards.

He’s coming.

Lynn Hagen

The words whispered through Rick’s mind. It was a warning the

Shadow had given him the night Rick had gone on-air. A warning
Rick never understood. He didn’t know who he was or why he was
coming.

The messenger, the Shadow—the name Rick and his Rebellion

group had dubbed the man shrouded in darkness who had stalked
them for some weeks—was a vampire. Rick was sure of that. The
incandescent red eyes had revealed that little secret to him.

Grabbing Dorian by his upper arm, Rick hurried his mate toward

the Hummer. “Get out of here, gatito. Get back to the safe house
now!” Rick could feel his edge of control slipping as an ancient
power he had never felt before slid over him like a black oil, making
him feel panicked—something he wasn’t used to feeling, and didn’t
like.

Anger sharpened Dorian’s brown eyes. There were tight,

controlled lines around his lips and a flash of dark emotions on his
face. “You want me to run and leave you behind to deal with god
knows what?”

Opening the driver’s door, Rick shoved Dorian toward the seat.

“That is exactly what I fucking want you to do.”

Dorian pushed at Rick’s chest, the anger burning in his eyes so

deeply that Rick took a step back. He had never seen his mate look at
him with such contempt before. “Sorry, my horoscope said nothing
about me running like a coward today. It said something about
dodging bullets and eating takeout, but nothing about running with
my tail tucked between my legs.”

“Gatito,” Rick said in warning.
“Gatito, my ass, Rick. We’ve been together over a year now and

you still treat me like I’m going to break. Haven’t I proved that I can
take care of myself? Haven’t I shown you that it takes more than what
the enemy dishes out to take me down?”

Rick grabbed Dorian by the collar of his shirt, yanking him close,

their noses almost touching. Whether instinct or imagination was at

Rise to Fall

work, Rick couldn’t be sure, but he sensed an ominous presence close
by. “This is not like any enemy you or I have encountered. I don’t
know what it is, but I can feel his power washing over me. There is no
way in hell I’m going to allow you to stick around.”

“If you stay, I stay, Rick. In this together, remember?” Dorian

spoke of a pact Rick and his mate had whispered so long ago in a dark
barn. It tore at his heart to see Dorian looking at him with trust and
love, knowing he was trying to send the man away. But he couldn’t
endanger his mate when he had no idea what was coming.

“Get the fuck out of here, Dorian.” Rick picked Dorian up and

shoved him inside the Hummer, slamming the door closed. “Go!” he
shouted, putting anger behind his words he didn’t feel. Scared, yes,
scared to death, but not angry. Dorian was who he was and Rick loved
the man. His mate was stubborn to the bone, and normally, Rick loved
that quality about him, but not today, not now.

“Fuck you, Mr. Marcelo.” Dorian started the Hummer and drove

off. The venom in Dorian’s voice was enough to make Rick want to
run after his mate, but he didn’t.

Instead, he turned to face what was coming. It made him a bastard

the way he had handled Dorian, but Rick would rather be a bastard
than watch as Dorian’s life drained from his eyes. He didn’t know
what was coming, but from the way his skin crawled, Rick wasn’t
taking any damn chances.

He would work it out later tonight with his mate.
“Should I start praying?” Benito asked soberly as he stood next to

him.

“Yeah,” Rick said as his eyes scanned the hills toward the south.

“You just might want to.”

* * * *

Dorian drove down the road, so damn angry that he was actually

fucking crying. He never cried. But Rick had never treated him so

Lynn Hagen

high-handedly before either. They argued and snapped at each other
on occasion, but he had never been treated like a juvenile before.

Didn’t Rick get it? Did he know that Dorian didn’t care what

danger came their way? He was Rick’s mate and would stand at his
side, fight at his side, and die at his side. He had thought they were
partners, but Rick had just told him otherwise by action and words.

He loved Rick to the point it physically hurt and there was no

way—Dorian slammed on the brakes when he saw a tall, dark figure
standing in the middle of the road. What the devil? The guy was just
standing there, staring at Dorian, unmoving.

Any other time, he would have run over anyone looking at him

like this was an approaching murder scene in a B-rated horror movie.
But he didn’t because there was a compulsion in his head that Dorian
couldn’t seem to fight. It told him to sit there, to relax, and to put the
vehicle in park.

Ever so slowly, his arm began to rise.
Dorian fought his own goddamn arm when it reached for the gear.

There was no way he was going to allow a stranger to manipulate his
mind and use him like a damn marionette, pulling Dorian’s strings.

He didn’t even listen to Rick half the time. This stranger had

nothing coming from Dorian.

Yet his arm wouldn’t stop reaching.
“Get the fuck out of my head!” Dorian shouted through the

windshield, but lost the fight and placed the Hummer in park. The
night was silent this deep in the forest, only a two-lane winding road
and plenty of trees for his escape.

But he couldn’t escape because he just sat there like an idiot and

watched the man thirty feet in front of him.

The stranger began to slowly walk toward him, his predatory gait

telling Dorian he was in deep shit. Why in the fuck did he listen to
Rick and leave? He was no safer running away.

Rise to Fall

The stranger that was dressed in a finely cut suit continued to

move closer, close enough that Dorian could see the man’s eerie twin
obsidian orbs and the red circle around his irises.

Oh, fuck!
This stranger was a vampire.
Dorian knew better than to look a vampire in his eyes. Rick had

warned him eons ago that a vampire could enthrall a person with his
eyes.

But he couldn’t tear his gaze away. He wanted to. God how he

wanted to, but it was as if he were locked in some sort of daze.

The man twitched his fingers—a slight movement, barely

noticeable—and the doors on the Hummer unlocked. It was as if
Dorian was trapped in his own mind. He was screaming for Rick,
fighting to slam the truck into drive and mow the bastard over.

But he just sat there, staring.
Mesmerized.
Helpless.
This was bad.
Real bad.
Rick!
Nothing, no answer. There was just an emptiness inside his head

that said he was all alone, facing a vampire in a very expensive and
dark suit on an isolated back road in the country, surrounded by
nothing but fucking trees. God, he should have stayed in bed today.

Dorian turned his head to his left, gazing at the man when he

stopped right outside the door. He just stood there, his ancient eyes
and his black hair standing out in contrast to his bronze skin. Dorian’s
eyes slowly lowered, watching helplessly as the vampire’s hand
reached up and grabbed the handle to the door.

He tried to struggle again, to free his body from the mental hold it

seemed to be imprisoned in. A whimper fell from his lips when the
door opened and the vampire stepped aside.

Lynn Hagen

Dorian slid from his seat, standing in front of the man. He was

tall, about six two, and chiseled. Dorian could see the cut in the man’s
arms. This stranger could do some serious damage to him.

“Quem é seu mestre, jovem?”
Dorian blinked up at him, feeling as if he were just drifting along,

not a care in the world. He liked the man’s voice, though. It was deep,
rich, and the accent was a killer. “What?”

The vampire walked around Dorian and his survival instincts

kicked in. He didn’t like having his enemy at his back. He fought the
haze, struggled to free himself, but his body hadn’t moved one damn
inch.

“Who is your master, young one?”
The man’s voice was so relaxing, so lulling that Dorian wanted to

follow behind him like a lost little puppy, yapping at his feet.

Wait, that wasn’t right. “I don’t have a fucking master, you piece

of shit. Now let me out of this mental trap.”

The man twisted his wrist and Dorian lost the ability to talk. He

would love to be able to move around freely because he would shoot
the bastard.

“Your tongue is very hostile. I have caused you no harm, yet you

spat volatile words at me as if I have offended you.”

Taking his freedom from him was offensive as hell to Dorian.
The man leaned in close, tucking a long finger under Dorian’s

chin, bringing his head up so that Dorian had no choice but to look the
motherfucker in his eyes.

“Tell me, human,” the vampire said as the scent of dry leaves and

wet earth filled Dorian’s lungs, “where might I find Kraven
Rubinsky?”

“Hamilton County.” Dorian spoke as if he were walking through a

dream.

The vampire gazed deeply into Dorian’s eyes, as if searching for

something, and then nodded. “Your memory will take me there.”

Rise to Fall

Dorian blinked and found that he was no longer standing on the

side of the road. Instead he was standing outside a building with no
windows.

Kraven’s nightclub.
Kraven was the worst vampire Dorian had ever had the

displeasure of meeting—the same vampire who wanted him dead.

As the ancient vampire moved toward the door, Dorian found

himself following against his will. He wasn’t sure what the creepy
man wanted, but Dorian was about to enter into enemy territory.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Two

“Hello.”
“Freedman, it’s Rick.”
Lieutenant Commander John Freedman—formerly the leader of

the now-dead Death Squad and probably wanted as a traitor to his
country—had been walking the back roads as he headed to Nevada
until his cell phone rang.

Freedman slung the backpack strap over one shoulder and

continued walking. “What’s going on?” He hadn’t heard from Rick in
a few months, and Freedman hadn’t expected to hear from the man at
all. The werewolf alpha had a lot on his plate to deal with.

For months Freedman had been trying to find a way to get

Omar—a werewolf changeling who had come along with Freedman
to find his best friend—out of the last remaining detention center.
Omar had trusted Freedman, and in the blink of an eye, the man had
been taken to the one place that was a nightmare for any changeling.

“Dorian’s missing.”
Freedman stopped walking. “How? When?”
“He was heading back to the safe house. I stayed behind to

fight…shit, I found the Hummer on an isolated road, the motor still
running, the driver’s door open. I’ve searched the area ten times over,
but it’s as if his scent just vanished right by the Hummer. There’s no
trace of him.”

There was a steel edge in Rick’s voice, but Freedman also heard

the panic. “What do you need me to do?”

Rise to Fall

“The Rebellions have pushed the enemy east. I was going to meet

up with them and take down a large military outpost in Wyoming,
but…”

“Where are you at now?”
“Close to Twin Falls in Idaho. I’d take my group and hunt him

down, but fuck, Freedman, I don’t know where to look. Brooke and
Deluca said you know this area like the back of your hand.”

“I do.” Freedman had spent his childhood in Twin Falls. The

canyons, snowcapped mountains, and falls always brought him a
nostalgic feeling. The wildlife and mountain ranges were no place for
someone who had no idea of the lay of the land.

“I need your knowledge.”
Freedman ran a hand over his head. “You know I’m already on a

mission of my own. Omar has been in that detention center for too
damn long, Rick. There’s no telling what has gone on or if he is even
still alive. I can’t leave him there.” His emotions were a tight knot in
his chest. Freedman had developed feelings for Omar. It was
something he knew better than to do in this uncertain world. But soon
after meeting the man, and then spending time with him, feelings
began to blossom. Freedman knew there was no way to stop those
feelings from growing. He thought of Omar’s short blond stylish hair
and his pale blue eyes. The man had been through a lot and Omar
carried that pain in his eyes.

“Help me search for Dorian and I’ll bring down that fucking

detention center with a unit of Rebellions that the military has never
seen the likes of.”

Freedman clenched his jaw. White-hot lightning scorched through

him at Rick’s offer. “I know you have your own fight to lead. You’re
the leader of the Rebellions. But that offer would have been nice
months ago when I called you and told you they took Omar. Now that
Dorian is missing, you want to cut me an offer?” Freedman couldn’t
contain his anger. For damn near ten months he had been trying to
enlist help to get inside the detention center, but everyone he talked to

Lynn Hagen

had told him it was a suicide mission. There were tanks placed at
every corner of the building, helicopters that flew overhead, and
guards in towers, on the ground, and patrolling the outer perimeters
twenty-four seven. There was no underground to use for getting
inside. There was nothing but wide open space and a death wish.

Rick growled into the phone. “Who is the one who called over a

year ago and told me to try to stop this war and never give up? Who
told me that everyone was depending on me to win? I’ve been out
here busting my ass, watching my species die by the thousands, and
feeling as if there was no end in sight. I’ve done what you asked,
Freedman. I took up the torch and led the fight. And now you want to
bust my balls because I’ve been ass deep in alligators and couldn’t
come to help you?”

Rick was right. Freedman was frustrated and angry. He was taking

it out on the one man who had been nothing more than a district
manager, yet took on an entire war just to ensure his species survived.
“I’m heading south on Route 93, close to Steptoe in Nevada. You’ll
have to pick me up.”

“On my way.”
Freedman tucked the phone back into the pocket it had been in

and took a seat on the side of the road. He needed to stop letting his
emotions rule him. He was better than that. Freedman had always
been in control, always inscrutable in the face of danger. They used to
joke in his unit that he was Mr. Ice with the ability to turn anyone
frigid who crossed him.

And here he sat an emotional wreck.
How had Omar gotten past his defenses? The man had done

nothing to lead Freedman to believe he wanted him. Omar had helped
Freedman deal with a very tough time in his life when he found his
best friend dead, cut up into pieces by savage weretigers. It had
broken something inside of him, shattering a deep part of his soul
when he buried Henderson.

Rise to Fall

But Omar had been by his side, helping Freedman when he didn’t

have to. The man had helped him track Henderson down, had sat
quietly next to Freedman as he wept for his lost friendship, and then
helped him bury Henderson’s remains.

He knew from the way Omar acted that he didn’t really care for

humans. But he had still been there for Freedman.

That kind of loyalty would not be forgotten.
Instead of sitting there and waiting, Freedman decided to get up

and start walking back the way he had come. It would give him time
to think while he headed in the direction Rick would be driving to
pick him up.

Freedman crouched low, hurrying toward a clump of bushes when

he saw a large vehicle heading his way. He didn’t know who it could
be, but these days, it paid to be cautious. If it were Breed Hunters,
Freedman knew he would be safe—although the men and woman
who hunted down nonhumans sickened him to his core.

If it was changeling mercenaries, they may or may not fuck with

him, possibly maiming or killing him for shits and giggles.

But if it was military, Freedman was screwed. He had turned his

back on them when he shot a fellow soldier for trying to kill a group
of young changelings. The government wasn’t going to forgive him
that deed.

They would hang him and use his dead body as an example on

becoming traitorous to his own race.

Freedman normally didn’t run. He was a fighter by nature, a man

who went toe-to-toe with danger. But he wasn’t foolish enough to
tangle with a truckload of men. He might be brave to a fault, but he
wasn’t stupid.

Unfortunately, the bushes weren’t enough to conceal him all the

way. He wasn’t exactly a small man. He braced himself and stood as
the truck came to a rolling stop. They weren’t military from the looks
of the men sitting in the back with shotguns tucked into their arms.

Lynn Hagen

And Freedman was almost positive they weren’t changeling
mercenaries.

That only left Breed Hunters—or some local yahoos out to harass

someone this late at night.

“Need a lift?” the driver asked. Freedman could see the ill

intentions in the man’s pale blue eyes. They were sparkling with dark
humor.

“I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” Freedman strode back to the

road and began to walk in the opposite direction the truck was facing.
He slid the military issued nine millimeter from under his jacket and
clicked the safety off, holding it in front of him, still under his jacket,
as he walked. He didn’t like having his back to them, but he wasn’t
going to have them slow rolling next to him either.

“That wasn’t the answer I was looking for,” the driver called out.

Freedman heard the commotion behind him and knew a few of the
men had gotten out of the truck. He didn’t need this bullshit right
now. He didn’t need it period. But right now he had too much on his
mind, a man to rescue, and another to find who was lost god knows
where.

An uncomfortable heaviness settled inside of him when he heard

the footsteps getting closer. Freedman lowered the bag from his
shoulder, letting the strap slip down his arm, and then dropped it right
before he spun around, aiming the gun in the driver’s face.

The man held up his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Whoa,

there.” The smile remained, but Freedman could see the cold, hard
calculation in the man’s eyes. “No need for the gun.”

“And there is no need to follow me when I already told you I

don’t need a ride.” His voice was even, steady as steel as he glared at
each man who stood next to the driver. Some of the men were still
sitting in the back of the truck, but three had jumped free to stand next
to this asshole. Freedman wasn’t too worried. He’d been in worse
fights and had been surrounded by many more men than this.

Rise to Fall

But he was on a back road, alone, and with a truck full of men

looking to hurt someone. Freedman had a steel spine and an iron will,
but he knew when he was in deep shit. He sized them up, telling
himself that taking the driver out first would be his best option. Not
knowing these men, there was no way to know how they would react
once their ragtag leader was dead.

“Lower the gun, boy,” the driver warned in a tone that belied the

smile on his face. “You don’t want to shoot anyone, trust me.”

Freedman snorted. “Trust you? I don’t even know you, and from

the looks of things, you don’t have a tea party in mind.”

The driver rolled his shoulders and Freedman gripped his gun

tighter. He knew when a man was getting ready to rumble. The
tension was building in his shoulders the longer he stood there
holding his gun. He didn’t like pulling it out and aiming it unless he
was ready to shoot someone. But until this yahoo made the first move,
Freedman would stand where he was and just watch.

No use riling his new buddies just yet. Not until he had to. He’d

let the driver make the first move, and then Freedman would teach
him why it wasn’t wise to mess with a man on the edge. He had been
through so much shit since meeting Captain O’Hanlon on that dark
and deserted street near the Mexican border that Freedman was
itching to take it out on someone—and this bastard was the perfect
outlet.

With steady hands, Freedman watched the driver slide a piece of

paper out of his front pocket, unfold it, and then turn it so show a
picture of Freedman with the words Wanted for Treason on the front.

“I suspect you are a very big payday for me and my boys here,”

the driver said with a sinister smile. “I wonder how much you’re
worth.”

“Trust me.” Freedman tossed the man’s words back at him.

“They’ll never pay you. O’Hanlon would kill you before you received
a dime of that money.”

Lynn Hagen

“Liar,” the man next to the driver spoke. “You’re just trying to get

out of being turned in.” He turned and looked at the men still sitting in
the bed of the truck. “We got us a real-life Jesse James here, fellas.”

What an idiot. If the man only knew why Freedman was a wanted

man. If any of them knew even half the truth, they would go running
home to their mammas and never come outside again. The world had
changed, and it was playing for keeps now.

“I think you’ve seen way too many westerns,” Freedman replied

to the man standing next to the driver. “In the real world, that is not
how it works. The government is cheap as hell and would rather pay a
unit of soldiers to dispose of you than give you the reward money.”
Freedman wasn’t sure if that was true, but he wasn’t about to let these
men think they had hit pay dirt. No one was using him as a paycheck.

The driver’s eyes scanned over Freedman and then back at the

paper in his hand, as if he was considering what Freedman was saying
to him. He could have sworn he saw the tiny little wheels turning in
the driver’s head, trying to figure out if Freedman was right, and if he
was, how to turn this in his favor in order to get paid.

“Then maybe you’ll fetch a handsome price by the Breed

Hunters,” the driver finally said, confirming that these men were just
a bunch of jackasses out to harass someone.

Freedman’s fingers gripped the gun tighter. “Let me guess, the

Breed Hunters wouldn’t let you join their little club? They say you
fellas weren’t Breed Hunter material?”

The truth lit the driver’s pale-blue eyes to flames. That was

exactly what had happened, and these men were out to prove they
could be Breed Hunters. They were out to prove they were better than
Breed Hunters.

Which meant Freedman was in a world of shit. If these men were

out to show they could hunt better than the hate groups, they would
use Freedman as cannon fodder to prove themselves.

He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Rise to Fall

“You don’t know shit!” the driver spat. “Those assholes don’t

know shit. We’re just as good as they are.” He pointed a finger at
Freedman. “We’re better. We found the second most wanted man in
America. Could they do that?”

“Second?” Freedman asked with a note of mockery in his tone.

“And who is the first?” He knew who the first man was. Enrique
Marcelo was still at the top of the most wanted list because O’Hanlon
couldn’t stand the thought of siring an animal. It still amazed
Freedman that one man would go through all this trouble to cover up
the fact that he had a changeling for a son. Freedman wasn’t foolish.
He knew that if anyone found out Rick was O’Hanlon’s son, the
Captain of Special Warfare would lose everything.

But starting a war was a bit on the extreme side. Was the man that

power hungry? Did he have so little regard for life that he would
throw the nation into the worst war that mankind had ever seen?

Apparently so, because Freedman was standing in front of men

who would sacrifice his ass to get paid while a species barely known
to the world was being wiped from the face of the planet.

Freedman didn’t even twitch when one of the men in the back of

the truck fired his shotgun.

The driver smiled cunningly at him. “You’re good. You didn’t

even fall for Daryl’s trick.”

The man was trying to distract Freedman so this bonehead in front

of him could disarm Freedman. They were going to have to do better
than that.

In the blink of an eye, not only the driver, but his pack of goons

came at Freedman, and Freedman didn’t hesitate when he pulled the
trigger.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Three

“What is this place, pequeno guerreiro?” Salvador Santos

Almeida walked through the strangely decorated building taking in
the sight. Never before had he seen such instruments of torture
gathered in abundance and ready for use. The devices hung from
walls and were strewn about on tables for all to see.

The human crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. Salvador

could tell the man had a very strong personality, but he did not come
to America for this man. The human had not insulted him in any way,
so he would live…for now.

“What the hell did you just call me?” he asked with attitude. “And

it better not be an endearment because I don’t think my mate would
like you talking to me that way.”

Salvador inwardly smiled. He was not used to anyone speaking to

him in this manner, and oddly enough, he did not take offense from
this small man. “It means ‘little warrior.’”

“Oh,” the man said. “But for reference, my name is Dorian.”
“One of the Hellenic people who invaded Greece,” Salvador

replied.

Dorian stood in the middle of the distastefully decorated building

and stared at him in puzzlement. “Hell if I know. It was my
grandfather’s name.”

Salvador gave a slight nod. “I am known as Salvador. Tell me,

Dorian. Why is this place deserted? Have your memories fooled me in
some way?” Salvador had never been fooled by a mere human before.
For that matter, no other being had been able to deceive him either. It
would be most disconcerting if this male had managed to pull off such

Rise to Fall

a feat. Salvador took a step toward the shorter man, glaring down at
him. “I do not take trickery of any sort kindly.”

Dorian scowled at him, but was only looking at Salvador’s chest.

Someone had schooled this young man about vampires and their
ability to pull beings into the snare of their mesmerizing eyes. “Well,
good, because I didn’t fucking trick you. It wasn’t my turn to watch
Kraven. But if you send me a memo next time, I’ll camp my happy
ass out on his damn doorstep.”

“I would be careful, pequeno guerreiro. My tolerance of your

sharp tongue is not infinite.”

The man shrugged. “Fact is fact. I know where Kraven’s club is,

but I have no idea where the vampire could be. He’s probably out
draining a few people if you ask me.” Dorian’s expression was
thoughtful. “You know, ever since this war started, no one has gone
after the vampires. Maybe that has changed. Maybe the military are
tired of picking on just changelings.”

Salvador cocked his head, listening. Being as old as he was—and

who he was—one of his talents had had enough time to mature. It was
the talent of picking up resonate conversations that had already taken
place, the voices still trapped between the walls. If he were out in the
open, it wouldn’t have worked. But this building was tightly sealed,
enabling him to pick up many conversations.

But he was looking for only one.
“Take the coven to the mountains. The military is growing restless

where our species is concerned.” It was Kraven’s voice.

“Are you going to join us?” Salvador could tell by the pitch that it

was a younger vampire, one not as old as his master.

“Soon, Remee. I have other matters to attend to first. Enrique

Marcelo has gone unpunished for his offenses long enough. It is about
time I taught him a lesson. If he thinks he can get away with killing
my vampires and not pay a price, he is sadly mistaken.”

Salvador felt the red-hot anger inside of him flare at Kraven’s

words. He knew exactly what the vampire was going to do.

Lynn Hagen

And that was exactly what he had come here to America to deal

with. It had been two hundred years since he and Kraven had struck
their bargain.

The vampire’s time was up.
The Mãos da Morte were no longer Kraven’s to control after

Friday night. The vampire had four more days and then Salvador
would close their deal.

But until then…
“Tell me, Dorian. Do you know of a man named Enrique Mar—”
“He’s my mate,” Dorian said quickly, his eyes rounding as he

glanced up at Salvador and then snapped his eyes back down. “Why
are you asking? How do you know about him?”

Salvador hadn’t planned on interfering with anything that was

going on in America until the allotted time was up. But for the first
time in a very long time, Salvador found someone who fascinated
him. This small human had backbone. He wasn’t afraid to speak his
mind.

Any other time Salvador would have drained anyone who dared

speak to him the way Dorian had, but there was just something about
this man. Salvador…liked him. “Show me where he is.”

“Not until you tell me what you want with him. I’m not going to

lead you to my mate if you plan on doing him any harm.”

Salvador studied the human. “I could kill you for not

cooperating.”

“I would gladly die to protect him,” Dorian said without

hesitation.

“I could read your mind and get what I want.” The man was

definitely intriguing. Normally, whenever Salvador issued a death
threat, men wet themselves. Dorian just stood there glaring at
Salvador’s chest with a clenched jaw and an expression of murder.

“You could try. But I don’t think you’ll be able to find my mate if

all I think about is Vegas and strip clubs—male of course.”

Rise to Fall

Salvador had never met anyone like this human. “You truly do not

fear me?”

“Oh, I fear you all right. But I love my mate more. Torture me all

you want. I’m not leading you to him.” Dorian became rigid, as if
bracing himself for the worst. It had been a very long time since
Salvador had met anyone with this sort of inner strength and
determination. It was refreshing. Most who encountered him fell on
their faces to please Salvador, fearing what he would do.

Not Dorian.
“Are all American’s as stubborn as you, pequeno guerreiro?”
Dorian shrugged his shoulders. “Hell if I know. I’ve met some

pretty brave men along the way. But I’ve also met some cowards. I
guess it all depends on what part of town you’re in.”

Salvador had no idea what the human was talking about. He

turned on his heel, heading toward the entrance. “Come.”

“I’m not your damn dog. If you don’t stop using your mind tricks

on me, I’m going to bite you.”

Salvador stilled, turning to face the human. “Threaten me again

and I’ll be the one biting.”

Dorian fell silent, but his expression said he wasn’t going to sit

back and take whatever Salvador threw his way. As amusing as the
man was, Salvador grew tired of the witty repartee. He dove into the
man’s mind and searched for what he needed.

In his search for Enrique, Salvador found himself pausing on the

image of Dorian and three werewolves battling his beloved Mãos da
Morte. Salvador hissed when he saw the human using a gun.

Not that his creatures could be killed with such a manner, but to

see them harmed infuriated him. He had created the dozen vampires
with his very breath. They belonged to him, not Kraven. To see them
used this way only solidified his resolve.

Come Friday, Kraven’s time was up.
Salvador had sent his servant to spy on what was happening in

America. The Shadow had reported to him that a changeling named

Lynn Hagen

Enrique Marcelo had defied the odds and was beating his government
in a war against nonhumans. This piqued Salvador’s curiosity. He
wanted to meet the changeling who could not only defy a large
government and stay alive, but who had also escaped Salvador’s
Mãos da Morte.

Thus far, he had never heard of anyone surviving his creations’

visit.

Now that he had seen Dorian’s memories, Salvador was

determined to find Enrique. But this damn human was true to his
word and only thought about half-naked men dancing around.

“Show me what I want to see,” he commanded.
“No,” Dorian said like a stubborn child. “Not until you tell me

what you want with him.”

Salvador walked from the building, standing out in the open as he

glanced around the city streets. The voices whispering through the
club cleared from his mind as he inhaled the night air. Even though he
was an ancient vampire, Salvador’s powers weren’t unlimited. He
excelled in some aspects, while he was denied access to others.

Like the ability to sense where Enrique was. If he probed deeper

into Dorian’s human mind, he just might cause irreversible damage.
Normally, that concern would have never entered his mind.

But again, he liked Dorian. He wasn’t sure why the human

intrigued him the way he did, though. “I want to meet the man who
was able to thwart my Mãos da Morte,” he said, knowing Dorian had
exited the club behind him. He had felt the man’s discomfort ever
since they walked through the doors and could feel Dorian’s relief at
being outside.

“Dude, we did not thwart them,” Dorian replied. “Kraven just sent

them to find out where we were. Although I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t
be telling you this.”

Salvador smiled to himself. Dorian was nobody’s fool. “I give you

my word, pequeno guerreiro. I mean your mate no harm.”

Rise to Fall

“No disrespect, old one, but I don’t know you. So your word

means diddly-squat to me.” Dorian reached up and began to rub his
hands down his arms. Salvador could feel the anxiety coming from
the human.

“You are feeling anxious being away from your mate. There is no

need when I can return you to him,” Salvador said, making sure he
held promise in his tone.

Dorian’s eyes glowed with savage inner fire. “I would rather

suffer through the fires of hell than lead you to him.”

This man was impossible! Salvador spun, pulling Dorian close as

he bared his fangs. “Tell me where Enrique is or I will drain you dry.”

“Fuck. You.”
Intrigued or not, Salvador was going to drain this obstinate little

human. He pulled Dorian closer, ready to sink into the man’s jugular
when the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Salvador glanced around,
trying to find the source.

“Breed Hunters,” Dorian whispered.
“What are Breed Hunters?” Salvador asked as he released Dorian.
“Humans who want anything nonhuman dead.”
Salvador knew that was the stark truth. He could feel the anger

and fear in Dorian’s voice. The Breed Hunters terrified the human.
Salvador spotted a group of about twenty men heading their way.

The odds were not in his favor. He was still weak from his travels

and hungry. Dining on each and every Breed Hunter would have been
his first course of action, but in his declining state, Salvador couldn’t
chance being killed.

But luck was on his side. As Dorian glanced at the advancing

men, his mind opened and Salvador saw where Enrique and Dorian
had last been together. Grabbing the human, Salvador flew at
lightning speed. He was so fast, humans thought he actually
disappeared.

But the journey took its toll. Salvador collapsed as he released

Dorian. He needed to feed.

Lynn Hagen

“What’s wrong with you?” Dorian asked.
“I need to replenish my body.”
The human’s expression turned to disgust. “Don’t even think

about snacking on me. It’s bad enough my brother is a recovering
fang addict. I’ll kill you before you turn me into one.”

“I am one of the muerto desde el útero. You will not become

addicted to my bite.” The Shadow had reported to him that the
humans referred to the vampire’s bite as an addiction. Sadly, it was
true.

Turned vampires were cursed creatures since entering this realm.

There was no such thing as becoming addicted to a bite when they
lived on the other side of the veil. But that was a long time ago and a
memory best left alone. Salvador had grown used to living in this
realm—even if he didn’t like being here. This side of the veil was a
cold and bleak place, holding no magic or wonder.

“I don’t see Rick,” Dorian commented as he glanced around. “He

left.” The human’s voice was filled with such sorrow that Salvador
could feel the emotion enveloping him. He didn’t need that right now.
Not when he was so damn thirsty and tired that he was considering
draining Dorian.

The human pulled out his cell phone, turning his back on

Salvador. Glancing around, Salvador noticed that the area looked like
a war zone. There were dead changelings lying about. But a dead
meal was not something Salvador could use to regenerate himself.

He needed warm blood and a beating heart.
His head snapped to the side when he heard a groan. It seemed not

all the fallen men were dead. With his last remaining strength,
Salvador pushed to his feet and staggered over to the wounded
changeling.

Desperation had him walking toward the man. Vampires—

whether turned or born of his species—did not like changeling blood.
It wasn’t as sweet as humans’ blood. But Salvador had no choice. If

Rise to Fall

he didn’t feed very soon, he would fall into a cationic state which
would leave him vulnerable.

Since the Shadow was not at his side, Salvador would be left to

whoever wanted to harm him…and that was probably Dorian at the
moment.

Dropping to his knees, Salvador yanked the changeling’s head to

the side. The man was going to die whether Salvador drained him or
not. His wounds were extensive.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” The man’s voice was weak, but

Salvador could tell the changeling had wanted to shout his protest.

“Oh, I promise you this will hurt.” Salvador could see the man’s

fading memories, and the changeling had been an evil being. The dark
and heinous images damn near scorched Salvador’s hand. “I promise
to inflict just as much pain as you have on your victims.”

The changeling gurgled as Salvador sank his fangs into the man’s

throat.

“God, can’t I take you anywhere?” Dorian asked as he walked

over to Salvador. “How can you drink blood from a dead guy?”

He could feel the revulsion coming from the human, but Salvador

ignored the man. He had to replenish his body. The changeling’s
blood was bitter on his tongue, but Salvador forced his mind to
concentrate on the healing inside his body, not his taste buds.

As he finished the man off, he could feel the last of the

changeling’s life bleeding away. It was too quick of a death in his
opinion. This man deserved to be tortured for the crimes he had
committed.

Pulling his fangs free, Salvador stood. He wasn’t one hundred

percent, but the blood would sustain him for a little while longer.

“Rick gave me his location. Can you find him with that because I

don’t know the area he is in.”

Salvador licked the remaining blood from his bottom lip. “You

have fought not to give me your mate’s location. Why are you so
eager now?”

Lynn Hagen

Dorian raked his eyes over Salvador. “Because I can tell you’re

weak. I’m hoping like hell Rick beats your ass when we get there.”

Even in his weakened state Salvador Santos Almeida was a

worthy opponent. He highly doubted the werewolf alpha would best
him. “Then let’s go meet Enrique Marcelo.” Grabbing Dorian,
Salvador used precious energy to take them to the location the human
had given him.

As soon as he released Dorian, Salvador stilled.
He could scent changelings all around him. The men standing in

front of him growled in his direction, taking menacing steps toward
him. But it was the human standing there with a sack over his
shoulder who captured Salvador’s attention.

He was looking into the eyes of a man he had searched for his

entire existence.

Rise to Fall

Chapter Four

Omar Reed gave a low groan as he cracked his eyes open to a

blinding light.

“You’re awake,” Dr. Formente said as he approached the table

Omar was strapped down to. Once again he found himself naked and
cold and lying in a room that wasn’t his own. Omar wondered if the
nightmare would ever end. The metal table was always cold whenever
he was brought into the lab. It had been so long since Omar was warm
that he could barely remember the sensation.

“Today we are going to start a different series of injections.” The

doctor walked over to the stark white counter, grabbing the first
needle from a row of them. Omar fought against his restraints, even
though he knew it was futile.

“Get the hell away from me!”
The doctor turned. “Now, now. There is no need to become

hostile, Mr. Reed. This series will not hurt like the last set.” His
mouth took on an unpleasant twist. The words were so matter-of-fact
that Omar wondered if the man had a conscience.

Feeling more than a little feral, Omar gave a low growl. “Let me

inject you and see if you are so fucking calm about it.”

Dr. Formente patted Omar’s shoulder and smiled benignly, as if

dealing with a temperamental child. But Omar could see the truth in
the man’s eyes. He hated Omar to the core of his rotten soul. “But I’m
not the animal.” Quiet, quiet words.

“I beg to differ,” Omar replied, trying his best to hide the tremor

in his voice. “I may be able to change into a werewolf, but you are the
true monster.”

Lynn Hagen

“That I am,” the doctor agreed as he injected Omar. At first Omar

didn’t feel a thing, and then his body became rigid as his back
painfully bowed. His jaw clenched as the agony tore through him. The
man had lied. But had Omar expected anything less? He shouldn’t
have. He knew Dr. Formente was a sadistic son of a bitch.

Omar lay there panting, fighting the wave of nausea as the room

began to spin. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth and knew he
was about to throw up. His body felt as if a thousand tiny razors were
slicing him open simultaneously as he fought not to pass out.

But maybe passing out would be a better option at the moment.
“Oh, come now. It isn’t that bad,” Dr. Formente said in a

condescending tone. “Man up. Or should I say, animal up.” The man
laughed at his own joke as he went to the counter for the second
injection needle. Omar wanted to die. The pain was so horrific that he
wondered how he managed to stay conscious.

“Hopefully this time we got the formula correct.”
Omar watched in detached horror as the doctor turned and headed

back toward him. Dr. Formente had been using Omar as a guinea pig
for nearly a year now. He wasn’t even sure what he was any longer.
He was a well-educated werewolf changeling who had known what
and who he was. However, since being forced to the detention center,
Omar had been injected with so many things that he was surprised he
wasn’t insane by now.

But the one thing Dr. Formente, or his guards, couldn’t do was

break Omar. They had tried over the course of his time here. His
guards were twisted fucks who took pleasure in hearing changelings
scream.

At first, Omar had refused to give them that pleasure. But over the

course of time, Omar screamed.

Every prisoner in here eventually screamed.
All Omar wanted to do was go home. His parents were as cold as

the table he was lying on, but at least they never tortured him. No,
Omar didn’t want to go home. In truth, he wanted to go back to

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Rick’s group. Even though he had been knocked down to juvenile
status for trying to handle a dangerous situation on his own, Omar
would gladly be a juvenile for the rest of his life if he could just get
out of here.

Thinking of Rick’s group only made Omar think of Freedman.

Images of the man floated in Omar’s mind. He wasn’t sure why he
continued to think about the human. Dr. Formente and the guards had
sealed Omar’s hatred of humans in a solid wall of despair.

But when times became unbearable, like now, Omar reached for

the memories of the short time he and Freedman had spent together.
Their time together hadn’t been long. Omar had spent most of it
keeping quiet. So why did he draw on the memory of a man with
pretty light-blue eyes and dark-brown hair, broad shoulders and a
lean, strong body? Freedman even visited Omar in his dreams. He
couldn’t understand why he yearned to be with the human. That
wasn’t who Omar was. From a young age he knew he was going to
mate another werewolf. It was a given for him.

Until he met the human soldier who had stolen Omar’s thoughts

and occupied a space inside of him reserved for—

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Formente asked.
He knew the man wasn’t asking out of concern. He wanted to

know how the drug was affecting Omar. “Release me and I’ll show
you.” His claws slid from their hidden sheaths and he could feel his
eyes begin to glow.

Dr. Formente smiled as he held up the needle. “How about I give

you another shot instead?” Before Omar could reply, he felt the prick
of the injection. This time all he could do was whimper. His body
became heavy to the point Omar couldn’t lift a finger.

He knew what the doctor was after. Dr. Formente had told Omar

what the experiments were for. The cruel man wanted to kill his
lycanthropy. Omar prayed like hell he didn’t develop a third eye and
grow scales from all the injections he had been given since being
here.

Lynn Hagen

“Just lie still while I get my work done and I’ll have your guard

take you back to your cell.” The man leaned closer, the air filling with
the acrid scent of hatred. “As you know, Mr. Reed, those who aren’t
human are the enemy…and the enemy is shown no mercy.” Dr.
Formente left Omar to suffer in silence as he walked over to his desk
and took a seat.

When his eyelids grew heavy, Omar fought not to let the tears

slide down his face. It would only make his guard giddy to see him
giving in to despair.

As the darkness began to take over, Omar knew without a shadow

of a doubt that he was going to die in this hellhole.

* * * *

“How are the tests going?” Captain O’Hanlon of the Navy Special

Warfare asked.

“The test subject is proving harder to break than we originally

thought. He seems to exhibit very strong changeling characteristics,
but none of the tests thus far have produced the results we were
hoping for,” Dr. Formente answered in a frustrated tone. “I could up
the dosage.”

“How will that affect your tests?”
“I’m not really sure,” the doctor admitted. “But if we don’t find a

way to reverse the lycanthropic disease, we’ll all be infected,
eventually. The plague-ridden are growing in alarming numbers.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Captain O’Hanlon snapped.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” the sharp voice on the other

end demanded. “We’ve tried everything we could come up with.”

“If he hasn’t shown signs of recessed animal genes by the end of

next week, kill him and start over with a fresh test subject. I want
results, Dr. Formente, not excuses.” Captain O’Hanlon slammed the
phone down, his jaw ticking. They had been close, but then Enrique
Marcelo had to go on-air and announce to the world that the United

Rise to Fall

States government was engineering a cure that not only stopped
changelings from shifting, but made man and animal sterile, along
with giving humans cancer.

Captain O’Hanlon wanted to hang the bioengineer who had

invented the cure but had overlooked that vital piece of information.

But Sasha Monroe had stolen the data, which resulted in them

starting over. Thank fuck Dr. Formente still had some notes. He had
helped Dr. Palmetto with the advanced research and had an exemplary
memory. He had also written things down.

So it wouldn’t set them back years.
But Captain O’Hanlon was tired of waiting. It was true. The

changeling population seemed to be exploding and he was damned
and determined to wipe their species from the face of the earth.

Starting with Enrique Marcelo, Captain O’Hanlon’s bastard

changeling son.

* * * *

It took a second for Rick to register what he was seeing. Dorian

was standing in front of him. He covered his mouth with his hand and
then pulled the man into his arms and kissed his mate’s cinnamon-
brown hair, resting his cheek on the soft strands as he felt relief flood
him.

And then he set Dorian aside.
“Rick, no,” Dorian said as he grabbed Rick’s arm. “He didn’t hurt

me.”

“But he took you,” Rick countered as his body began to sprout

fur. His jaw elongated as his razor-sharp canines slid free. Before
Rick could attack, the vampire crumbled to the ground.

Rick didn’t know what to make of this. He wanted to tear the guy

apart for laying a hand on Dorian, but even he wasn’t going to attack
an unconscious man. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I think he needs to feed,” Dorian replied.

Lynn Hagen

Rick snapped his head over to his mate. “You think he needs to

feed? Since when do you care what a vampire needs? I thought you
hated the entire race for what they did to Ian.”

“I do,” Dorian answered. “But there were Breed Hunters heading

our way. Salvador could have left me to die, but he didn’t.”

Rick felt his anger pulse inside of him. “On a first-name basis?”

That knowledge damn near sent Rick over the edge. “You wouldn’t
have been in that situation if he hadn’t taken you in the first place.”

Dorian turned his Peruvian-brown eyes on Rick, and he could see

the matched anger. “No, I wouldn’t have been in that situation if you
hadn’t sent me away like a little boy who doesn’t know how to fight
and defend himself.”

Oh, his mate was downright pissed. Rick could feel the animosity

coming off of Dorian, and it was choking the shit out of him. He
knew shoving Dorian into the truck and telling him to go was going to
come back to bite him on the ass. “I was trying to keep you safe from
a power that…” Rick refused to finish his sentence. He was about to
say a power that scared the shit out of him, but there was no way he
was admitting to that in front of everyone. “Vampire.” He pointed at
the ground where Salvador lay.

Rick had an urge to kick the fallen man.
“Oh, you saved me all right,” Dorian spat. “You sent me right to

him.”

Rick stabbed a finger toward Dorian, ready to put the man in his

place when Freedman walked between them and then knelt beside the
vampire. “What are you doing?” Rick asked.

“Hell if I know,” Freedman replied as he picked the unconscious

man up and took him over to the dead humans lying in the middle of
the road. Rick had been shocked when he found Freedman standing in
roadway, his gun drawn, and a bunch of humans lying dead all
around. He still hadn’t had time to ask the man what had happened.

Dorian had shown up right after Rick had arrived.

Rise to Fall

All turned and watched as Freedman lay the vampire down next to

one of the dead human’s and grabbed the human’s wrist, pressing the
flesh to the vampire’s mouth.

“Freedman,” Rick said in warning. “We don’t even know why he

took my mate. Why are you trying to revive him? He is the one who
set off all my warning bells. He’s dangerous.”

Apparently the human wasn’t dead. The guy made a small

moaning noise. But Freedman ignored it as he coaxed the vampire’s
mouth open. Rick just stood there in stunned disbelief.

“Now I’ve seen it all,” Sasha Monroe said. The leopard stood

there staring at Freedman, looking just as stunned as Rick. “If the
vampire gets up and attacks, I say we feed him Freedman first.”

“He’s not going to attack,” Freedman said over his shoulder.
“And how in the hell do you know this?” Rick asked.
“I just do,” Freedman replied as he turned back around.
Rick’s eyes grew round as the vampire’s jaw lowered, his fangs

gleaming from the pale light of the moon, and then he bit down into
the human’s flesh. Rick pulled his gun free, aiming it at the vampire.
“One false move and he gets it right in the heart.”

“He’s too weak to fight,” Dorian said. “I was hoping you kicked

his ass, but I think you should wait until he is at least on his feet.”

Rick glanced at his mate and wondered if Dorian hit his head.

Was he defending the vampire or wanting Rick to attack? He wasn’t
sure what was going on in his mate’s head, but Rick was going to get
some answers from the vampire as soon as he could speak.

Striding over to where Freedman was bent down, Rick took a

good long look at Salvador. For a vampire, he sure as hell had a nice
tan. Rick had never seen one of the dead guys with skin the color of
bronze. His short black hair was soaking wet, as if the man had been
sweating profusely—which was damn strange for a vampire to do—
and fringes of the black strands fell over the man’s face.

Rick could scent the guy was pure vampire, but hell if he looked

like one. Even in the guy’s weakened state, Rick could feel the

Lynn Hagen

powers radiating in this man. He was dangerous. There was no doubt
in his mind.

“He’s feeding,” Freedman said so low, it almost sounded like he

was talking to himself.

“You okay?” Rick asked. The man was not acting himself.

Freedman was a fighter, but he was also a very intelligent being. It
was out of character for the human to grab a stranger, a vampire no
less, and aid him in feeding.

It was damn bizarre. Freedman helped strangers. The man had a

heart of gold, even if he was a quiet and lethal guy. But to see him
bending over, making sure a vampire didn’t die made Rick question
the guy’s sanity.

“I’m fine,” Freedman answered.
“Then why in the hell are you shoving a human’s wrist into a

vampire’s mouth? You don’t even know him. He’s not someone you
want to fully wake up, Freedman.” Rick placed his hand on
Freedman’s shoulder and the vampire sprung from the ground,
crouching in front of Freedman, baring his fangs.

Rick aimed his gun at the man’s head. “Easy now.”
The vampire’s eyes were pure red, including the irises. He still

had blood around his mouth as he moved further in front of
Freedman, as if protecting him. Rick was stumped. Just what in the
hell was going on?

Freedman stood. “I’m thinking he wants you to back away.”
Rick glanced at his friend. “Not while you are standing behind

him.”

The rest of Rick’s group had their guns out, all barrels pointing at

the vampire. Salvador didn’t stand a chance. When the man began to
stand, Rick chambered a bullet. “I said easy.”

Rick was staring at the man’s chin. He knew better than to look

him directly in the eyes. This one was old and Rick wasn’t sure what
the vampire could do. He wasn’t taking any chances.

Rise to Fall

“We need to get going before these yahoos’ friends come looking

for them,” Freedman said as he nodded toward the dead men lying all
around.

“Just what happened here?” Rick asked, but never took his eyes

off of the vampire.

“They pulled up wanting to have a little fun, and then they

recognized me. That was when their plans changed and their greedy
asses wanted to cash me in.” Freedman bent down and grabbed a
piece of paper from one of the dead men’s hand. He held it up for
Rick to see.

It was a picture of Freedman with a healthy sum under his name.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Freedman replied. “I didn’t shoot until they came after

me. I used the driver as a human shield as I took the rest out.”

The vampire turned his head, but Rick didn’t raise his eyes to see

how the vampire was staring at Freedman. Hopefully he wasn’t
looking at the man as a snack. “I’d feel a lot better if you moved away
from the vampire, Freedman.”

“He will not leave my side,” the vampire finally spoke.
“Wanna bet?” Rick asked. “Me and my friends here think you’ll

move.”

“Do you think bullets will stop me?”
“Yeah, I do,” Rick replied. “You may be dead, but the heart is still

a very important piece of hardware for you.”

The man laughed. “I am not dead, homem insensato.”
“He said he was muerto desde el útero,” Dorian replied. “Same as

the guy who attacked Edward.”

Dead from the womb. Rick knew very little about vampires, but he

knew the man was born a vampire, not turned. That made Salvador
ten times more dangerous. “Why are you here?”

Salvador moved, making sure Freedman was well covered as he

raised his hand. “To meet you.”

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“Me?” Rick asked in confusion. “Why the hell do you want to

meet me?”

“Because,” Salvador said, “you are very well known. My servant

said you are great in war and are defeating the humans.”

“Your servant?” Rick hated feeling clueless. It only made him

want to shoot the man.

“Yes,” Salvador said. “The man I sent here to assess the situation.

You met him. He is known as the Shadow.”

Rick was stunned. “I thought that was just a nickname I gave

him.”

“And your nickname would have been correct. He moves through

the shadows, using the darkness to hide his existence. I am impressed
you spotted him in that warehouse. No one has been able to find him
when he does not want to be seen.”

Rick remembered the Shadow vividly. He, and some of his group,

had shot at the damn thing, and the bullets seemed to go right through
the creature. He moved lightning-fast and was able to climb walls and
ceilings.

The man was creepy scary.
“So you kidnapped my mate to meet me? The last time someone

did that, things didn’t turn out so well for the guy.” Rick refused to
think about Leon, but he was trying to make a point.

“I was merely borrowing him,” Salvador replied. “Tell me,

Enrique, do you know where Kraven Rubinsky is hiding?”

Rick’s heart gave an extra beat at the master vampire’s name.

“Hopefully he’s dead.”

Salvador took a step closer, which made Rick raise his gun higher.
“Pray that he is not dead, changeling. If he is, then the Mãos da

Morte have been unleashed on your precious world, and there will be
no reining them in.”

Rise to Fall

Chapter Five

Freedman had no clue what he was doing or why. He just had a

deep-down desire to make sure this man didn’t die. But what really
tipped the strange scale was the fact that watching the vampire feed
didn’t bother him.

It should have.
It should have been gross as hell.
But it wasn’t.
The fact that the act of watching him drink blood from a dying

man didn’t freak Freedman out…freaked Freedman out. He stepped
around the vampire, trying to get past him when Salvador threw his
arm up, stopping Freedman in his tracks.

“Let me go,” Freedman said in a low warning voice. He may have

insanely helped this man, but the madness ended here. He didn’t like
doing things and not having a reason why.

“It would be best if you stayed close to me,” Salvador said as he

gazed at Freedman. The man had very dark irises. They looked black,
and there was a red ring around the obsidian orbs.

“Don’t look him in the eyes,” Rick warned from a few feet away.

“Vampires can enthrall you when you look them directly in the eyes.”

Freedman heard Rick’s warning, but the only thing he felt looking

at Salvador was irritation. There was nothing hypnotic about the guy’s
eyes. Well, they were pretty. But he didn’t feel as if he wanted to
obey the man’s every command.

“It would be best if you didn’t stop me,” Freedman replied to

Salvador. The side of the man’s mouth twitched, as if he found

Lynn Hagen

Freedman humorous. As Freedman glared at the man, something
inside of him was trying to push Freedman toward the vampire.

He didn’t understand why.
If he had to put a label on what he was feeling, it would be

attraction. Admittedly, the man was handsome. Freedman’s fingers
itched to brush away the fall of black hair over the man’s eyes. His
lips tingled to kiss the vampire’s tempting full lips.

Freedman gave a slow blink, wondering if he really had lost his

mind.

“We need to go.” Rick’s voice pulled Freedman from openly

staring at the man. “We need to find a way to free Omar from the
detention center.”

Hearing Omar’s name snapped Freedman back to the here and

now. He felt a tightness in his chest as he thought about the blond-
haired man. Maybe this vampire could be of use after all. So far, he
hadn’t found anyone who would help him. Rick said he would, but
Freedman knew breaking into the last remaining detention center was
going to take more than a handful of humans and changelings.

Last time they broke into one of those facilities, it had taken an

entire force. They didn’t have an entire force with them now. They
barely had a unit. So many of their people had died during battle or
been assassinated by Breed Hunters. While they might be winning the
war, it was coming at a very heavy price.

Now he knew all his marbles weren’t lined up in a row. Freedman

was seriously considering asking this man for help. Maybe this war
was finally taking its toll on him and he was cracking up.

“Who is this Omar you speak of?” Salvador asked with a deadly

infliction. It seemed anger made the man’s accent thicker, a little
harder to understand.

Freedman’s eyes snapped to the vampire, feeling the anger that

had been eating away at him since Omar had been taken. “What the
fuck do you care?”

Rise to Fall

“I do not. But you obviously do.” Frown lines marred Salvador’s

bronzed face. “Why do you care?” The man sounded almost
curious—almost. There was a darkening in his eyes—which was
strange considering the vampire’s eyes were black—that belied the
man’s outward calm. “Who is this man to you?”

Freedman almost ground his molars together. “A friend.”
The intensely quizzical way that Salvador stared at him gave

Freedman the shivers. He almost felt like the vampire was trying to
see directly into his mind, and no one needed to be there. Freedman
had enough to deal with without anyone knowing how messed up in
the head he truly was. He seriously didn’t need anyone pointing that
fact out to him.

It took more willpower than Freedman was comfortable with to

tear his gaze away from Salvador and look at Rick. He didn’t
understand the strange pull the vampire seemed to have over him, and
he certainly knew he didn’t like it.

“Can we go now?”
“Yeah.” Rick’s eyes seemed troubled as he glanced from the dead

bodies littering the ground to his mate. “That might not be a bad idea.
There’s no telling if these guys were alone or not.”

“I’m pretty sure they were. I got the idea from the leader that they

were trying to prove themselves so that they could join up with the
Breed Hunters.”

“They were rejected?” That seemed to catch Rick unaware. His

eyebrows shot up as a look of surprise came over his face. “I thought
the Breed Hunters took whoever could pull a trigger.”

Freedman shrugged as he glanced around at the dead bodies

littering the dark stretch of road. “Guess not.”

He started to head for one of the vehicles when he noticed

Salvador walking beside him, matching him step for step. Freedman
stopped and stared at the man. “Can I help you?” he snapped.

“No, but I may be able to help you.”
Freedman’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

Lynn Hagen

“You want to retrieve this friend, do you not?”
Just what sort of game was this vampire playing? Freedman didn’t

know much about vampires other than the fact that they sucked
people dry and killed whatever was left. That didn’t give him the
warm fuzzies. “Yeah?”

“Then I will assist you in this endeavor.”
Again, what the fuck?
“Why would you do that?”
“It is what you desire.” The statement was simple, just a few

words, and yet they had the power to make Freedman more nervous
than he had been when facing down the band of thugs that had just
tried to cash in on him.

“Look, just because I had a compelling compulsion to make sure

you didn’t die—which I am still trying to figure out where that
insanity came from—doesn’t make us buddies. Now scram.”
Freedman made a shooing motion with his hands. “Get lost, Mr.
Dangerous Vampire. Go on, mosey on down the road and go find
another ‘best friend.’”

There was a curious tilt to Salvador’s eyebrows as he looked back

at Freedman, almost if the man was amused by Freedman’s dismissal.
The delight in Salvador’s eyes contradicted the slow curling back of
his lip. Freedman stared, then blinked, and then stared again when he
saw a glint of white fang flash.

“Was that meant to scare me?” Freedman asked as he nodded

toward the man’s sharp teeth. “Because, believe me, I’ve seen bigger
and scarier.” Really, he hadn’t, but Freedman was not about to let the
man intimidate him. It was bad enough he was drawn toward the
stranger in a way he just couldn’t explain. But there was no way in
hell he was going to let the vampire know he was ready to take a step
back.

Giving the vampire that kind of knowledge was like handing the

man dangerous ammunition. He didn’t know Salvador, and Freedman
didn’t plan on getting to know him.

Rise to Fall

Salvador moved closer to Freedman, his strides graceful and

predatory. “I seriously doubt that you have,” the vampire said in a
low, feral Brazilian accent.

Freedman shivered at the accent and turned away, heading for a

vehicle. He didn’t care which one. He just knew if he didn’t put some
space between him and the man who seemed to call to a deeper part
of him, he’d hit someone.

Salvador was at the top of his list.
Rick was next.
Freedman was tired of no one having a plan to rescue Omar or

even willing to come up with a plan. Omar had been a prisoner for
almost a year now. He was well aware of the threat the military had
made when Omar was being captured. If anyone came near the place,
the changelings would be executed before one single Rebellion came
within three hundred yards.

Freedman had seen what the government had done to other

changelings in just a few weeks or months. He didn’t even want to
contemplate what might have happened to Omar during his time in
captivity.

The thing that gutted him was that he didn’t even know if he was

going in to rescue someone alive or dead. He just knew he had to try.
Omar meant too much to him to simply give up without even finding
out if the man had survived. If he had to rescue Omar’s body and bury
him, then that was what he’d do. But the man would not be left in the
hands of the sick-ass freaks that had taken him.

Freedman climbed into one of the vehicles and shut the door. A

moment later, the other door opened and Salvador glided in beside
him. Freedman found himself grinding his molars again as he opened
his door and climbed back out of the vehicle, heading to another one.
At this rate, he wouldn’t have any teeth left.

Freedman climbed into the next vehicle and closed the door.

When Salvador climbed into the other side, Freedman started to reach
for his gun. “Dude, you seriously need to back the fuck off.”

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Salvador had Freedman in his grips in the blink of an eye. The

vampire had a firm hold on Freedman’s upper arms. “I am being very
patient with you, meu destino. I could take you from these men with
no qualms. If you want to stay with your little band of Rebellions,
then I suggest you take my offer of help.”

Freedman leaned in close, so close he could see small flecks of

blue in the dark irises. It was simply stunning, but Freedman refused
to compliment the man. “Threaten me again and my little Merry Men
will shoot your ass.”

When Salvador reached out and caressed Freedman’s cheek,

Freedman almost flinched but caught himself. “You are very
stubborn, meu destino.”

“What do you keep calling me?”
Salvador smiled, showing the tip of his fangs. “Be nice and I just

might tell you.”

Freedman was reluctant to agree. He didn’t want a vampire’s help.

There was a feeling inside of him that whispered to Freedman, telling
him that if he accepted this man’s help, it would be like making a deal
with the devil.

Not a lot of things scared Freedman. But his instincts were telling

him to be very wary of this stranger. “What do you want in return for
helping me?” Freedman asked cautiously. There was no way this man
was offering his help for free. Not when it was something as
dangerous as going anywhere near the last remaining detention
center—filled with people who would kill Salvador on sight just for
being nonhuman.

“We can negotiate our terms later.”
“Do I look stupid to you?” Freedman asked. “You want to

negotiate your terms after you help me so I can’t refuse you?”

“You are as intelligent as you are good-looking.”
Freedman wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult.
Salvador moved closer, making Freedman press his back into the

door. He reached down for his gun, but Salvador’s hand was on his,

Rise to Fall

stopping him. “Strike the bargain with me, Freedman, and you will
never regret it.” Salvador’s words were spoken in a soft promise that
made Freedman terrified of the man.

Freedman swallowed, his eyes darting around Salvador’s

handsome features. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get Omar out
unless he made the deal. No one else could help him. No one else
wanted to go near the detention center for fear of not only their life,
but of the government making good on their promise.

Freedman opened his mouth to once again ask what the bargain

was, but Salvador closed the distance, taking Freedman’s lips in a kiss
that felt as though Freedman’s insides were sparking to life. His heart
thumped a little faster. His breath came out a little quicker.

And his cock was full and heavy, pressing painfully into his

zipper.

His mind was screaming to push Salvador away, but his arms

were reaching up and linking behind the man’s neck. The
contradiction was a battle inside Freedman, but he didn’t pull away.

Salvador licked at Freedman’s bottom lip, sucked it into his

mouth, and then there was a sharp pain. Freedman knew that Salvador
had nipped him. The man began sucking feverishly at Freedman’s
lower lip…and Freedman let him.

Finally, Salvador pulled back, licking his lips as the red ring

around his irises seemed to glow. “You taste better than I had hoped,
meu destino.”

Lying there a little dazed, all Freedman could do was blink. He

was too terrified to speak, because the words I’ll do whatever you
want were just behind his lips. Freedman wasn’t going to let them
free.

“Strike the bargain with me, Freedman.”
Freedman shivered at hearing his surname on Salvador’s lips. The

accent made his last name sound so damn exotic. “I—” Freedman
blinked a few times, ripping his gaze from Salvador’s, trying his best

Lynn Hagen

to gather his wits. What was this man doing to him? He glanced back
up at the vampire. “No.”

Salvador’s lips pulled back, exposing his fangs. “Be careful,

Freedman. You will not like me when I am angry.”

Freedman pushed Salvador away from him, grabbing his gun at

the same time and aiming the barrel at the man’s forehead. “And you
won’t like me if I really get pissed. Get out of this truck, now.”

Salvador leaned back, smiling. “I have tasted you. There is

nowhere you can go now that I won’t find you. Remember,
Freedman, you need me, not the other way around.”

“I don’t need you,” Freedman gritted out.
Salvador threw his head back and laughed, the sound sliding down

Freedman’s skin like a lover’s caress. He shook the feeling off as he
kept his gun aimed at the vampire. “Get. Out.”

The vampire flicked his wrist and the gun eased away from the

vampire’s head. Freedman was still trying to figure out why he
lowered it when Salvador moved closer once more. “Your threats are
making me feel a hundred years younger, but be careful, Freedman. I
won’t let you harm me, and you just might gain my fury.” The
vampire ran the back of his knuckles down Freedman’s face. “Trust
me, you really do not want that.”

Freedman firmed his jaw and told himself he was doing this for

Omar. “The bargain is struck. Now get Omar out of the detention
center.” He just hoped like hell he wasn’t going to end up Salvador’s
main course.

Raising Freedman’s wrist, Salvador bit down.
“You son of a bitch!” Freedman shouted as he tried to pull his

wrist free, but he could feel the skin tugging, threatening to tear free if
he pulled any harder. “Do you know what you’ve just done? I’m a
fucking fang junkie now!”

Salvador licked the wound closed and gazed up at Freedman.

“Nonsense. I am a muerto desde el útero. Our bites are nonaddictive. I
was sealing our pact with blood.”

Rise to Fall

Grabbing his wrists, Freedman saw the wound heal, but two tiny

scars were left behind. He knew for a fact that vampire bites healed,
leaving no scar behind. Salvador was not a turned vampire. Yeah, he
had heard Dorian already say that, but the truth struck home as he
stared at the tiny permanent pinpricks. “I’m so screwed,” he
murmured, thinking of the bargain he had just struck with the man.

“That remains to be seen,” Salvador replied, but Freedman didn’t

see any lascivious intent in the man’s eyes. He had spoken the stark
truth. “Now where is this last remaining detention center?”

Freedman tore his eyes away from the scar and glared up at

Salvador, angry with himself for being so foolish as to make a bargain
with a vampire. “Nevada.”

Salvador nodded and slipped from the truck.
Freedman followed, feeling as if he just given up his soul.
“We are to head to Nevada,” Salvador said to Rick.
Freedman was a little surprised when Rick glared at Salvador, but

didn’t comment. Rick wasn’t a man to mix words or stand down, but
that was exactly what he was doing, standing down.

“Can’t I just shoot his ass?” Nate asked. “He creeps me the hell

out.”

“I second that,” Selene said. “I’m itching to shoot someone, and

since I mated Sasha, I can’t shoot him.”

“I’m flattered,” Sasha said, but smiled playfully at Selene.
“Load up, people. We’re heading out,” Rick said loudly, glancing

over his shoulder at Salvador with a mixture of hate and hesitation in
his light-grey eyes.

Freedman knew as he followed the others that he had just paid the

ultimate price for Omar’s rescue. He just wondered if he would live
after Salvador collected.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Six

Salvador met them between Winnemucca and Black Butte,

Nevada. Admittedly, the area was picturesque, but his mind was on
other things. He had chosen not to ride with Freedman’s group. Their
vehicles were cramped, and Salvador loathed feeling as if the walls
were closing in on him. He had dealt with that feeling for too many
centuries to allow himself to ride in a cramped vehicle.

Salvador took a look around. Dawn was approaching and he

needed to find a place to rest. Being nearly thirteen hundred years old,
even the smallest rays were harmful to him. He would meet the group,
let them know he would be back at true dark, and then find a place to
sleep for the day.

But until then, Salvador moved a little closer to the detention

center, getting his first glimpse of the place. Helicopters whirled up
above, tanks were lined in a row all around the perimeter, and there
were guards everywhere.

It seemed the humans weren’t taking any chances.
He slowly turned his head when he heard something behind him.
“Hands slowly in the air.”
Salvador scented the air. Human.
He raised his hands, turning his head to see a male standing

behind him in a military uniform, rifle aimed directly at Salvador’s
heart. “It would be best if you lowered your weapon.”

The man’s eyes flickered over Salvador, and then he met

Salvador’s eyes.

The weapon began to lower.

Rise to Fall

Another male came from behind a copse of tall bushes, his rifle

aimed as well. “Snap out of it, Private Williams. You know better
than to look a vampire in his eyes.”

The second man was looking at Salvador’s chest, but the barrel of

his rifle was dead accurate. “Again, lower your weapon.”

“Not likely,” the second soldier replied with a lethal edge to his

voice. “Get your hands all the way in the air and turn back around.”

Salvador pushed into the man’s mind. What these young humans

failed to realize was that Salvador was a vampire by birth. He was
also old enough to where he didn’t need to enthrall them with his
eyes.

The second soldier began to lower his rifle.
Salvador searched their minds, getting the layout of the detention

center from the inside. He would need to know where he was going
when rescuing Freedman’s friend.

“Get out of my head!” the second soldier shouted.
This one was strong-minded. He didn’t give as easily as the first.

Breaching his mind wasn’t a problem, but holding on to it wasn’t as
easy. Salvador pushed into the first soldier’s mind instead—although
he hadn’t let the second one go—and found Private Williams to be a
wealth of information.

“I swear I’m going to kill you just as soon as you release me,” the

second soldier threatened, thin anger lines marring his young mouth.

Salvador glanced at him and then curled the side of his mouth into

a predatory smile. “Who said I was going to release you, human?”

A spark of fear entered the man’s blue eyes. He could tell it was

finally sinking in that the guy was in deep trouble.

“I still haven’t fully nourished myself.” Salvador sized the man

up. “And you’ll do just fine.” He breathed out the last word, feeling
his mouth water at the thought of replenishing what he had used to
travel to Nevada.

“Picking on the locals?” Freedman asked as he appeared from

Salvador’s right. Salvador could see the trucks Freedman and the rest

Lynn Hagen

of his group were traveling in sitting off to the side. He had been so
busy with these two men that he hadn’t heard the trucks approach.

That was not good. It was a sure sign he was growing weaker.
“I would say they were picking on me”—Salvador pointed to their

guns, inwardly chuckling at the idea that these two men could hurt
him—“and were ready to take my life.”

“Somehow I highly doubt that,” Freedman said with irritation as

he walked over to the two soldiers and relieved them of their firearms.

The first soldier was watching Salvador, his eyes filled with a soft

eerie light, hateful and fearful at the same time. The man wasn’t under
as deep as Salvador had thought.

“I need to find a resting place,” Salvador said as he watched the

two soldiers. Why weren’t they so easily swayed into the haze he had
put them under? It was as if Salvador was losing his touch.

Which was nonsense. The older a vampire became, the stronger

he became. Not weaker. The two should be willing to do his bidding
like the lap dogs that they were. Instead, both glared at him, their
black pupils fixated with hate.

“What about Omar?” Freedman asked.
Salvador cleared his throat. “I will be back when the light is gone

from the sky.”

* * * *

“That is one strange-ass guy,” Dorian said as he watched Salvador

vanish. “Are you sure he isn’t going to try and drain us?”

Sasha and Nate tied the two soldiers up as Freedman shouldered

their rifles. “Hell if I know,” Freedman said as he glanced toward the
detention center.

Dorian looked as well and gasped. He had heard the place was

more secure than Fort Knox, but seeing it was too damn surreal. His
gut clenched as he watched the helicopters fly high up above. How in
the hell were they supposed to get past those? He wasn’t changeling,

Rise to Fall

but his eyesight was good enough to see the guns that were sitting
right inside the helicopters.

If they stepped out into the open, they were dead.
Somehow Dorian knew a brave speech from Rick wasn’t going to

do it this time. Not only had the government swore to kill the
changelings who were being held captive if anyone looked like they
were coming to fight, but the changeling Rebellions had refused to
come this time.

Most said there was no way to penetrate those walls. Dorian

couldn’t blame the changelings. Most were fighting to stay alive.
Banding together to free the prisoners of the last remaining detention
center was a sure way to die.

“Looks impossible, doesn’t it?” Rick asked as he stepped next to

Dorian.

Standing there looking at the place they were supposed to attack

with a handful of people only made Dorian realize that this fight was
taking its toll on him. Was the fighting and running ever going to
stop?

Was the war going to last for years? Dorian felt ill thinking about

being on the run for years. He knew in his heart he couldn’t do it.
Mason had taken Dorian’s brother, Ian, to a safe hiding place,
somewhere Dorian’s parents, Edward, Isabelle, and their child were
staying.

But Dorian knew he wasn’t going to be going anywhere safe.
He was going to the detention center to free the changelings.
“Yeah,” he answered solemnly. “Impossible.”
When Rick tried to pull Dorian close, he moved away, heading for

the truck to help Nate and Sasha with the soldiers. They didn’t need
help, but Dorian needed space.

Constantly running.
Constantly looking over his shoulder.
Constantly afraid they would be caught and killed.

Lynn Hagen

Dorian wasn’t sleeping right. He kept having nightmares that

either he or Rick—or both—were caught and tortured. Sometimes he
dreamt they were outright killed. The fear was ever-present and
constantly gnawing at his gut.

Maybe he wasn’t as strong as he thought he was. Maybe he wasn’t

built for this kind of life. For fuck’s sake, he had worked at a deli
before all of this started. Dorian had never held a gun before going on
the run with Rick.

He had thought himself a coward when the first detention center

had been attacked, and Dorian hadn’t changed his mind. Pure luck
was what he lived on. Plain and simple.

“Gatito,” Rick said as he walked up next to Dorian. “Talk to me.”
Dorian glanced back toward the detention center and all he could

see was his and Rick’s death. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Rick asked, grabbing Dorian’s arm when he tried to

walk away.

“This!” Dorian shouted as he waved a hand toward the detention

center and then at the two soldiers tied up in the back of the truck.
“The world has gone mad, and I feel like I’m drowning in the
insanity. I’m tired of running, waking up in strange places, and
wondering if today is the day I’m going to die.”

Rick tried once again to pull Dorian into his arms, but Dorian

shoved at Rick’s chest. “No, touch isn’t going to work this time, Rick.
Touch isn’t going to bring back Miguel’s parents. Touch isn’t going
to give Hunter and Samuel their mom and dad. Touch isn’t going to—”
Dorian pivoted and began to walk in the opposite direction of the
detention center.

Rick caught up with him. “Where are you going?”
Dorian glanced around at the mountains and felt so damn lost that

a detachment started to fill him. “I don’t know.”

“Then if you go, I go.”
Dorian shook his head. “You can’t. You promised Freedman

you’d help him.”

Rise to Fall

“If it means losing you, fuck everyone else and what they need.”

Rick grabbed Dorian, this time pulling Dorian into his arms. Being in
his mate’s arms felt so safe, but Dorian knew it to be a lie. Bullets
penetrated embraces. Bullets shattered lives. Bullets didn’t have a
name on them. They flew through the air and struck wherever the
person firing the gun aimed.

Dorian didn’t want anyone aiming at him any longer. He was tired

of having a target painted on his back. Living with constant fear was
physically affecting him. He had seen things that would haunt him for
the rest of his life. He had done things that would forever change him.

“I’m tired of the death.”
“But it won’t stop until we win this war,” Rick pointed out. “You

can run. You can find a safe place to hide. But people are still going
to die, Dorian. If I can save one life, then all this fighting was worth
the hell I’m living in.”

Dorian glanced up at Rick and then slowly shook his head. “I

can’t say the same thing anymore. I’m terrified of losing you, or
Miguel, or Benito. I’m even afraid of losing Nate and Selene. The
thought of Sasha dying makes my stomach turn and I barely like him.
I’m not as strong as you think I am, Rick. I’m just not. I’ve killed not
because I’m brave, but because I’m afraid to die.”

“And that makes you the bravest man I know,” Rick said as he

cupped Dorian’s face. “Only a fool would be fearless in this war. Fear
is what keeps us all alive, gatito. Do you think I face each day with
heroism? I’m scared shitless I’m going to lose you every second of
every day. But if I don’t stop those out to kill my species, then what
kind of future do we have?”

Dorian wasn’t sure what to think.
“Trust me, Dorian. There are many days when I want to take you

and run. There is an entire nation counting on me to take the
government down. Do you know how daunting that is? Can you
imagine the pressure on my shoulders? But I can’t give up. If I do, my
species will only be a race of beings in history lessons.”

Lynn Hagen

Dorian ran his hands through his hair. “We can’t win against the

detention center.”

Rick nodded. “I know. That is why we are sending Salvador in.”
Dorian turned. “We are?”
“I don’t know what kind of deal he struck with Freedman, but he

told Freedman he was going to get Omar out.”

“But what about the others, if there are others? Don’t they deserve

to be freed as well?” Dorian liked Omar, but he was pretty damn sure
there were other changelings behind those walls. They deserved their
freedom just as much as Omar did.

“When Salvador returns, we’ll make it clear that he has to get

everyone out. I want that place blown off the map.” Rick paced in
front of Dorian. “I also want to attack both of Sellers’s labs. I’m tired
of them thinking they can use us as experiments.”

“Them meaning humans. You can say it, Rick. It doesn’t offend

me. I’m well aware of what my race is doing to yours.”

Rick grabbed Dorian by his upper arms, glaring down at him.

“There is no dividing us, Dorian. Just because you are human and I’m
changeling doesn’t make us enemies. It’s the bad guys versus the
good guys.”

“I know this, Rick, so stop dancing around the truth. You’re tired

of humans using changelings as experiments. I’m tired of the same
thing. Just because they are changeling doesn’t make it right. They are
living and breathing beings who deserve to live like everyone else.
Why are we even having this conversation?”

Rick shook his head as he released Dorian. “I don’t know.”
“When this is all over, I want a damn vacation, Mr. Marcelo.”
Rick grinned. “Just don’t go asking for medical benefits, Mr.

Campbell.”

Dorian wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but talking with Rick

did make him feel a little better. He still wasn’t the best man for the
job. He was winging this.

But wasn’t everyone else in the Rebellion group?

Rise to Fall

“I say after this, we take the fight to Washington and try to end the

war once and for good. Fuck fighting for the rest of our lives. Let’s
get this shit done and over with.”

Rick wrapped his arms around Dorian’s shoulders. “Sounds like a

damn good plan to me. But first we have to blow up those labs.”

“Fine, but after the labs, the White House.”
Rick slid his arms free and then grabbed Dorian’s hand, pulling

him along. “But until then, we need to get some rest. Something tells
me tonight is going to prove very interesting, if not strenuous.”

Dorian followed, walking beside his mate as he heard the

helicopters in the distance. He was determined to get this job done,
blow up the labs, and finish this war in Washington.

And then he was going on an extended vacation that was going to

last for a few years.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Seven

Omar rolled over on the cot he had been sleeping on. His entire

body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The bones in his body
felt as though they had been stretched and his skin felt like it wasn’t
his own. It was tight, itchy, and he was developing rashes in various
areas of his body.

He knew Dr. Formente would be back for him soon. The man’s

maniacal relentlessness was off the charts. The doctor was determined
to succeed, even if it killed Omar. And Omar had a feeling that was
exactly what would happen to him.

He heard something on the other side of the door. Omar braced

himself to be dragged from his cell—like every single time they came
to get him. Omar never went without a fight. As he lay there, he
waited, but no one came inside his cell.

Even though his cell was pitch-black, Omar had no problem

seeing. But there was nothing to see. He had a cot and a toilet. That
was it. Omar didn’t even own a stitch of clothing. He had nothing.

The door eased open.
Was this a trick? Did they want him to attempt escape so they

could sadistically hunt him down and kill him? What sort of sick and
twisted game were they playing this time?

Omar eased from the cot, sitting up straight as he watched the

door. He wasn’t about to play their games. Omar wasn’t about to
allow himself to become their source of entertainment. “I’m not
falling for it,” he said a little louder than a whisper.

A shadow fell over the threshold, but no one appeared.
Someone was out there.

Rise to Fall

Omar knew Dr. Formente was at the end of his rope with the

failed experiments. He also knew his days were numbered now. The
scientist was getting more and more impatient with him. “Who is out
there?” Omar called.

No one answered.
There was a faint light out in the corridor, which helped whoever

was waiting on him to cast a shadow, but still, no one appeared.

Stupidly curious, Omar treaded carefully toward the door. He

didn’t have a good feeling about this, but wanted to know what was
going on.

A scuttling sound came from just behind the door.
Omar tried to look between the crack of the door and the wall, but

he didn’t see anyone hiding behind the large steel door.

Crossing the threshold, Omar spotted a guard standing a little

behind the door, but a few feet away. The guard said nothing. He
stood there staring at the far wall, his stance rigid.

“What kind of game is this?” Omar asked, but knew he wasn’t

going to get an answer. They never answered any of his questions.

When the guard turned and strode toward him, Omar kicked,

missed his intended target, and then kicked again. The guard gave no
reaction. There was no sneer, no threats, no response whatsoever.

He looked…dazed, unfocused.
“Follow me, young wolf.” The guard’s voice was disembodied, as

if it weren’t his own and then he turned and began to walk away.

Slack jawed, Omar just stood there. Was this some sort of trick?

Should he follow the guard or go back into his cell?

The guard was moving away from him, fast.
“Here’s to stupid ideas,” Omar murmured as he hurried to catch

up. He was a dead man anyway. If this proved to be a trick, then he
would only die sooner rather than later. Maybe that was a better
option than continually being experimented on.

Lynn Hagen

Omar shivered thinking about the countless injections he had

endured. He hated needles to begin with. Now he downright loathed
them.

The guard stopped, holding his arm up. It was such a mechanical

move that Omar hesitated. What in the hell was wrong with this man?

Footsteps could be heard coming toward them.
Omar glanced up at the guard, who turned and began to walk

down a different hallway. Omar followed. He could hear voices.
Someone was having a conversation. Omar strained to listen. They
weren’t close enough, but having changeling hearing, he could pick
up a few words.

“The test subject is proving a disappointment. His destruction has

been ordered.”

Were they talking about him? How could anyone talk about taking

a life so casually? The thought enraged him, but there was nothing
Omar could do about his fury. He was too busy following the creepy,
dazed guard.

They waited in a small alcove for what felt like hours, but were

actually only a few minutes before the guard began to walk again.

“What in the hell is going on?” Omar finally asked.
The guard turned, his blue eyes still unfocused. “Do not speak,

lest we get caught.”

Somehow Omar doubted the guard was this intelligent. Most of

the humans around him—aside from the scientists—were dumb as
doorknobs. But there was a shimmering intelligence almost glowing
in the man’s eyes. It was as if—nah, that was crazy. There was no
way this man’s eyes were reflecting someone else’s. That was too
farfetched even for Omar’s conspiracy theory mind.

There was no such thing as possessing someone’s body.
Movement drew Omar’s attention. He glanced to his left to see

another guard standing there. The second guard glanced at them, his
eyes raking over Omar’s naked form.

Rise to Fall

Omar felt violated just from the man’s lascivious look. As badly

as he wanted to read the man the riot act, he remained quiet.

“Taking the prisoner somewhere, Walker?” the guard eye-raping

Omar asked.

Walker nodded. “He is needed in the infirmary. His arm is

severely broken.”

Omar glanced up at Walker. The man could have let him know he

was supposed to fake a broken arm. Luckily, Omar’s arms were
dangling at his side. He left them dangling there.

The man laughed. “Did Smitty get carried away with him?” Again

with the eye-raping thing.

Omar had a feeling that this guard wanted the chance to find out,

in a private room where no one would hear Omar’s screams.
Thankfully, the doctors of this detention center didn’t want their test
subjects violated lest the heinous act interfere with their precious
work.

But Omar had a feeling that if he was sanctioned to be destroyed,

every damn guard in here would have a go at him, sexually or beating
the crap out of him. He hadn’t been on his best behavior since being
captured. Omar had fractured a few ribs and even killed one of his
guards.

The man in front of him looked like he was itching to pay Omar

back.

Omar was stunned when he heard a low growl coming from

Walker. The man shouldn’t be defending him. “Something along
those regards,” Walker replied before continuing on.

Omar hurried along, but glanced over his shoulder. The guard was

watching Omar’s naked ass.

Sick pervert.
“Listen,” Omar whispered in a subvocal voice, somehow knowing

the guard could hear him, “whoever you are, you can’t talk that damn
proper. You’ll give yourself away.”

Lynn Hagen

The guard’s head tilted slightly, telling Omar he heard the

warning.

Walker opened a door and walked inside, Omar following closely.

He came to a screeching halt when he saw where he was.

A morgue.
“What the fuck?” he gasped as he began to back away. “Was this

some sort of sick trick?”

“No trick,” Walker answered in that distant voice. “Get into one

of the body bags and you will be transported out of here.”

“Not on your fucking life!”
Walker turned, giving Omar his full glare, and that was when

Omar saw pinpricks of red in the man’s pupils. He knew what that
meant, but Omar wasn’t about to stand here and examine why a
vampire was helping him. He wasn’t even sure how a vampire could
enthrall someone without standing in front of its victim.

“I am growing weaker the longer you take. If we do not leave here

soon, you will be caught.”

Omar glanced at the body bag sitting on one of the gurneys. Could

he really do this? Could he hide inside a body bag and be carried out
of here?

“We are running out of time,” Walker warned.
With great hesitation, and insurmountable fear, Omar spread the

body bag out and then climbed up onto the table, slipping inside the
bag. Walker began to zip the thing up, the sound echoing in the room,
feeling as if Omar’s fate was being zipped right along with the zipper.

It felt so final.
“Do not move one inch until this bag is once again opened.”
Omar nodded, settling back as bile began to fill his throat. He

glanced up at the guard with his military cut and his unfocused eyes.
“Who sent you?”

The guard drew the zipper to Omar’s neck before answering.

“Freedman.” And then the zipper closed Omar into darkness. He
shivered, knowing exactly what he was enclosed in.

Rise to Fall

“No movements.”
Omar tried his best to still his shaking limbs as the gurney began

to move. Freedman sent Walker to rescue him? How? Omar had
thought the soldier had forgotten about him. He had thought
Freedman had given up trying to find a way to get him out.

Somehow, Omar knew Freedman hadn’t turned his back on him,

but Omar knew this place was a virtual fortress. There shouldn’t have
been a way out. Omar should have died behind these walls.

One of the gurney’s wheels squeaked as he was pushed along.

Omar began to feel as if he were suffocating inside the bag. It was a
death bag, and he was being carted along inside of it.

He needed air. He needed out of this bag. Omar couldn’t do this.
“Be still or I will kill you myself,” the distant voice warned in a

low tone.

Omar stopped struggling, but couldn’t stop himself from feeling

trapped. This would be the perfect mind fuck if the guard were
playing some kind of sick game. But Omar had seen the red in the
man’s eyes.

This wasn’t a game.
He was really being rescued.
That thought settled his nerves some. His stomach wouldn’t stop

tying into painful knots until they were far away from the detention
center. Driving to the next country would do.

The gurney bumped and jerked, making Omar suck in his breath.

How were they going to get out of here? How was Walker going to
explain taking the body bag away? Omar was pretty sure getting rid
of dead bodies wasn’t this guy’s duty.

Maybe it was. But not knowing if they were going to be caught

was giving Omar a massive migraine. He sucked in his breath and
held it when the bag was lifted into the air.

“Whoa,” someone said, and Omar knew it wasn’t Walker’s voice.

“Where are you going with that?”

Lynn Hagen

There was a moment of silence, as if Walker were thinking about

his answer, and then his voice came out with confidence. “One of
Sellers’s labs asked for this body. Something about needing the dead
changeling for further studies.”

“Where’s your paperwork?” the unfamiliar voice asked. “I can’t

let you take that body out of here without signed documents.”

Omar bit his tongue in order not to shout. The scream was just

behind his lips. He also locked every muscle in place in order not to
move, to try and fight his way out of the bag and out of the center.

“You will find a quiet room to rest in. You have not seen us here,

nor will you try and stop me from leaving,” Walker said in a weird,
distant tone. Whoever this vampire was, Omar was downright
impressed. He shouldn’t be. The unknown guy guiding Walker was a
vampire, after all.

But damn if the man wasn’t good at enthralling people from a

distance. It occurred to Omar that if the vampire grew weak from
using Walker as a puppet, then he must be damn near drained from
using Walker to enthrall someone else.

They were indeed running out of time. If the vampire grew too

weak, Omar was fucked.

He heard footsteps fading away and knew the guard who wanted

paperwork was leaving. He wanted to ask if Walker could finish the
rescue, but remained quiet. He didn’t know if there was anyone else
close by.

Omar was lowered onto a hard surface and he assumed it was

some sort of vehicle. At least, he prayed it was, because if they didn’t
get out of here soon, Walker would go back to being Walker, and
Omar would get shot between the eyes.

“I am growing very weak. We must hurry and finish this,” Walker

said softly. “Remember my warning.”

Stay still until someone opened the bag. Yeah, he remembered. It

wasn’t like Omar was going to let himself out and get comfortable in
the passenger’s seat.

Rise to Fall

Omar’s nose started to itch, but he fought his instinct to scratch.
A motor roared to life and then they were moving.
God, please let this work.
The vehicle was moving along at a steady pace, and Omar almost

let out a breath of relief until the vehicle came to a stop. They hadn’t
been moving long enough to be free of the center.

“Transporting a cadaver,” Walker said. “Captain O’Hanlon’s

orders.”

Omar’s head began to pound as he nerves wound up tight. The

vehicle still hadn’t moved.

And then it began to pull away.
Omar damn neared cried.
“We are clear of the gates, but still under watchful eyes. Do not

attempt to get out.” Walker’s voice sounded exhausted.

“Are we going to make it out of here or is Walker going to come

back to his own mind soon?”

“That is a very good question,” the vampire replied.
Omar’s gut clenched. “What do I do if you lose your hold on

him?”

“Kill the guard and bring him to me.”
“How?” Omar asked.
“If he unzips the bag, use your changeling strength to overpower

him.”

Omar didn’t like that answer. He may have gotten off the cot and

followed Walker, but he was just as drained, just as exhausted as the
vampire. The experiments had taken their toll on his body. He was
already fighting not to fade into sleep. Omar prayed like hell he had
the strength to overpower his guard.

They drove for a few miles, and then Omar felt the vehicle come

to a stop. He crossed his fingers and prayed like hell it was their
safety point and not another military stop because he knew the
vampire was just about drained.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Eight

Before Freedman could reach the Humvee, Salvador ripped the

driver’s door open and pulled the soldier from the front seat, sinking
his fangs into the guy’s neck. The vampire had gone pale as he stood
next to Freedman and had slipped into some kind of trance. Freedman
knew that Salvador was controlling someone. It was just strange as
hell to stand there and watch the vampire have a conversation with no
one.

His heart had nearly stopped when Salvador started talking about

finding a quiet room to rest in and not seeing them leave the place.
Freedman knew that meant someone had tried to stop whoever was
helping Omar escape.

Walking to the back of the Humvee, Freedman was shocked

speechless when he saw the black body bag. It was a brilliant plan,
but made his heart beat overtime. Freedman didn’t like seeing the
body bag and knowing Omar was inside.

He quickly unzipped the bag, his eyes settling on Omar’s silent

form. Freedman knew Omar was alive, but jumped back when the
werewolf’s eyes snapped open. Omar sat up, lending to Freedman’s
vivid imagination. It was as if Omar had come back to life.

The man blinked a few times as he glanced around, and then his

eyes settled on Freedman. Their eyes locked together, and Freedman
knew Omar was finally safe.

“How do you feel?” Freedman asked as he looked over Omar’s

form. The man was naked. Freedman turned, looking over at Dorian.
“He needs some clothes.”

Rise to Fall

When Freedman turned back, Omar was still sitting there staring

at him. “Are you hurt?”

Omar shook his blond head. “I’m weak though.”
As gently as he could, Freedman lifted Omar from the bag,

cradling the man in his arms. He carried Omar to the truck Dorian
was standing by, shuffling through a bag. Freedman glanced down
when he passed Salvador, seeing that he was starting to get his tan
back as he drained the soldier.

“Is that who helped me?” Omar asked.
Freedman nodded.
“Thank you,” Omar called down to Salvador, but the vampire

didn’t reply as he continued to drink.

“Set him right here,” Dorian said as he turned, a pair of jeans and

a shirt in his hands. “These should fit.”

Freedman watched as Omar lifted a shaky hand. He wasn’t sure

what was done to the werewolf, but Omar didn’t look any worse for
the wear. The skin under his eyes was slightly dark, and the man did
look exhausted, but other than that, Freedman couldn’t see anything
wrong with the guy.

“Let me help.” Freedman grabbed the jeans from Dorian’s hand

and helped Omar into them. He was extremely gentle as he lifted
Omar up. Freedman didn’t know the extent of the man’s injuries or if
he had any injuries.

Omar’s fingers curled around Freedman’s arms as he allowed the

help. Freedman felt very protective of the man. Once Omar’s pants
were on, he helped Omar into his shirt. His pale-blue eyes were
flickering around, not meeting Freedman’s gaze.

Freedman buttoned the man’s shirt, going extra slow, trying to

give the man a sense of safety. After being in the detention center for
close to a year, Freedman knew it was going to take time for Omar to
feel safe again.

Lynn Hagen

When Omar finally glanced up at him, Freedman gave him a soft

smile. “I’m here, Omar. I’m not going to let anyone else take you
away from me.”

Omar glanced away.
As badly as Freedman wanted to pull the changeling into his arms,

he wasn’t sure if Omar was ready for anything that close. He ran his
hands down Omar’s arms and then stepped back, giving the man
some room.

“We need to get out of this area,” Rick said from behind them.

“Someone is going to discover Omar’s absence.”

Omar’s eyes flickered up to Rick, and then he glanced away.

Freedman moved back over to Omar. “Are we heading to California?”

Rick nodded. “That’s the plan.”
Freedman could see that Rick wanted to talk to Omar, but was

thankful when the alpha turned and walked away.

“Why are we going to California?” Omar asked.
“Sellers Pharmaceutical has two labs there. We have to make sure

they aren’t holding any more changelings.”

“But what about the changelings in the detention center?” Omar

asked. “We can’t just leave them.” There was a haunted look in
Omar’s eyes. Freedman was stunned Omar would even consider the
possibility of another rescue. He was damn sure Omar wanted to get
as far away as possible.

Salvador came to stand next to them. “They will be freed, meu

destino.”

When Omar glanced up at Salvador with a questioning look,

Freedman grunted. “Don’t ask him what it means. He won’t tell you.”

“It’s Portuguese for my destiny,” Omar replied, his eyes flickering

over Salvador’s face.

“Why in the hell would you call me and Omar that?” Freedman

asked.

“Because we’re his mates,” Omar replied in a hushed tone.

Rise to Fall

Freedman stilled, glancing from the werewolf to the vampire.

“We’re what?” He knew what mates were. Freedman was just
shocked to his core that—oh, hell.

“How?” Omar asked. “We pick who we want to mate. How can

you know this?”

“Because,” Salvador began, lifting his hand and running the tips

of his fingers down Omar’s face, “vampires have no choice. Fate
decides for us.”

“The hell it does,” Freedman said, feeling the fear rise up in him.

He knocked Salvador’s hand away from Omar. “We are not mates.”

Rick glanced over at them, his expression startled.
“Fuck,” Selene groused. “Now we can’t shoot him.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Freedman replied.
“I can pull my cross out,” Benito offered.
“That won’t work,” Salvador said with narrowed eyes.
“I can throw some holy water on him,” Miguel replied. “Just as

soon as I find some.”

Salvador hissed at the enforcer.
“That is why he can’t enthrall you,” Rick said as he walked back

over to them. “I should have figured that out. He can’t enthrall his
mates.”

“True,” Salvador said, giving a slight nod to his head. “But don’t

test me, Freedman. I have told you before, my patience is not
limitless.”

“Actually,” Dorian said, “that would be me you said that to.”
Salvador turned, waving a hand at Dorian, as if dismissing him.

“It applies to all who dare challenge me.”

“Full of yourself?” Nate asked.
“No,” Salvador said, his eyes growing even darker. “I’m very

aware of my capabilities. Trust me. You do not want to find out their
extent.”

Lynn Hagen

“Threaten my mate again and we just might see what you are

made of,” Sasha said with a feral edge to his voice. “The only one
who gets to threaten Nate is me.”

“Thanks,” Nate said as he scratched his jaw. “I think.”
“We need to get going,” Freedman reminded them. He picked

Omar up and carried him to the backseat of the truck. The man didn’t
protest, which told Freedman just how weak Omar was.

“I will follow.”
“Hold on,” Freedman said as he held a hand up. “Every time you

use your powers, you are drained…and then a human is drained.
You’re riding with us.”

A flash of fear appeared in Salvador’s eyes as he glanced at the

truck, but just that quickly, it was gone. “I cannot.”

“We don’t have time to argue. The area will be flooded with

military soon. Get in.”

Salvador took a step back. “On this, there is no compromise.”
Freedman blinked and Salvador was gone.
“I have to remember that,” Nate said.
“Remember what?” Freedman asked.
“If I want the vampire gone, just offer him a ride.” Nate grinned,

but the expression wasn’t friendly. Freedman crawled in next to
Omar, fully aware that if he was Salvador’s mate, and Omar was
Salvador’s mate, then Omar was Freedman’s mate.

That changed everything.
Freedman lifted Omar from the seat and put the man in his lap.
“I don’t need reassurance,” Omar grumbled. “I’m fine sitting on

my own.”

“I’m sure you are.” But Freedman didn’t let the man go. He

wrapped his arms around the smaller man as Rick got into the driver’s
seat and Dorian into the passenger’s. Miguel and Benito climbed in
back, and Nate and Selene rode with Sasha.

Freedman was glad their group had become smaller. Everyone

who had been with them was now in hiding. It was for the best.

Rise to Fall

Mason found it hard to fight when he was constantly worried about
Ian. Rick had suggested Dorian’s parents, along with Mason and Ian,
go stay with Edward. Although Lillian had protested leaving Dorian
behind, they finally relented and left.

Now it was just eight of them, ten including Omar and Salvador.
Freedman wasn’t sure what to think of the vampire, but his gut

was telling him Salvador hadn’t been lying about them being mates.

As they pulled away, Freedman held Omar tighter, and then

gasped when the smaller man exploded in his arms, and then there
was a small cougar sitting in his lap.

* * * *

Kraven paced the underground vault he and his coven had fled to.

Normally, he would have sent the Mãos da Morte after the threat he
felt coming his way, but Kraven knew that ominous feeling.

He was all too familiar with the dark and deadly presence inching

its way down his flesh. Kraven knew without a shadow of a doubt that
he could not beat the vampire, nor could he kill him.

Salvador Santos Almeida was here in America. He was a muerto

desde el útero. Born vampires held special gifts, and Kraven knew
one of Salvador’s gifts was controlling another’s mind from a
distance.

The other was picking up resonant conversations. That was why

he had the misleading conversation with Remee in the club. Kraven
wanted to throw Salvador off his trail. He wasn’t giving up the Mãos
da Morte without a fight, and he wasn’t honoring his end of the
bargain.

He couldn’t.
Kraven was not about to become the man’s servant for the next

thousand years. Fuck that. He had become too powerful in his county
to give that up to be enslaved by another. He was nobody’s lapdog
and he most certainly did not kowtow to anyone, not even an ancient.

Lynn Hagen

He knew from meeting the ancient vampire two hundred years ago
that his enslavement would not be a vacation. Salvador was a
powerful man.

And with that much power came insanity.
He was pretty sure Salvador had other gifts up his sleeve, but

Kraven was not going to wait around to find out what they were.

Too bad he couldn’t deal with Enrique before he fled. But Kraven

wasn’t down and out just yet.

He walked into the room at the far end of the hall. Opening the

vault door, he stepped inside and closed it behind him. He still had
control of his boogeymen until Friday night. He was going to unleash
them on the world before he was hunted down like an animal.

“Darkest creatures of the night, come forth and show yourselves.”
The twelve Mãos da Morte slowly appeared in front of Kraven.
“Enrique Fernando Marcelo.”
Kraven watched as the vampires disappeared.
If Kraven was going down, so was everyone else. He hadn’t

wanted to kill Enrique. If the werewolf alpha died, then the military
would focus on the vampires.

But it seemed Kraven’s time just might be coming close to the

end. He still planned on battling to stay out of Salvador’s servitude,
but if he had to fight to stay alive, so should Enrique.

* * * *

Salvador felt electrical currents running down his arms and knew

his beloved creations had been dispatched. Just what was Kraven up
to? Salvador rose from his resting place, heading toward the cave
entrance. He hated using a cave, but he had no choice. He wasn’t at
home and couldn’t use his vast underground dwelling to rest.

He flew through the night, using Freedman’s blood as a beacon.

He knew they were traveling. The werewolf alpha and the others had

Rise to Fall

said they were heading for California. It would take him no time to
catch up to them.

What stunned Salvador was to find that Omar was his other mate.

Although having more than one mate was not unheard of, Salvador
had not expected this revelation.

But he welcomed it.
Now he just had to convince both men to lay down their guard and

mate with him. That seemed like a task easier said than done. Both
were stubborn men.

He liked the fire both his mates exhibited, but he did not like that

fire turned against him. That would not do. Salvador had been through
too much torture in his lifetime. He had endured too much pain and
suffering to not enjoy what fate had deemed his.

He was going to claim them, whether they knew it or not.
As Salvador neared the home he sensed Freedman in, his heart

seized in his chest. All twelve Mãos da Morte had been dispatched.

And all twelve were entering the home.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Nine

Rick dropped the keys onto the table by the door. He was weary

as hell. They had made it as far as Bishop, California, before Rick
needed rest. It was going to be another seven hours before they
reached the outskirts of Warner Springs where Sellers’s two labs were
located.

One of the sympathizers had loaned Rick and his group their

home. Rick didn’t like being so close to a damn cemetery, but he
wasn’t going to be picky. All he wanted to do was rest.

“It’s been a long day,” Dorian commented as he glanced around

the bedroom they shared.

“That it has been,” Rick agreed, thinking about his mate’s

meltdown. He couldn’t blame Dorian. They had been running and
fighting for over a year. Sooner or later one of the members of his
group was bound to lose it.

He just hated that it had been Dorian. But Rick had already seen

the signs months ago. He had just stupidly chosen to ignore them.
Rick hadn’t wanted to face the fact that maybe Dorian needed to go
into hiding, to leave the front lines for a while. He didn’t want his
mate to leave his side.

By being selfish, he had risked Dorian’s health. That thought

made him feel like shit. Rick knew what he had to do. He just didn’t
want to do it.

But before he let Dorian go, he wanted to drown in his mate’s

scent, to make love to him one more time. He wasn’t sure when he
would see Dorian again, and Rick was scared shitless he would be
killed and leave his mate all alone in this world.

Rise to Fall

Dorian had his family, but that would not be the same for his

mate.

They had a deep bond. Sending Dorian away was going to be hard

enough on both of them. But to leave Dorian’s side forever was
unthinkable.

“Come here, gatito,” Rick said as he pulled Dorian into his arms.

He could see the bags under his mate’s eyes and the weariness on his
face. It killed a part of Rick to see his mate like this. “If it takes my
whole life, I’ll make this up to you.”

“Make up what?” Dorian asked.
“The running and fighting.” Rick crushed his mouth against

Dorian’s, pouring his emotions into that one kiss. The kiss wasn’t
gentle, but filled with fire and passion. Rick pulled back, staring down
into Dorian’s Peruvian-brown eyes. “I never meant for my mate to
have this kind of life. I need you to know this.”

Dorian placed his hands over Rick’s. “I know this, Rick.”
“Do you?” Rick asked. “My heart hurts thinking about everyone

we have lost. But I would no longer have a heart if I lost you. I was
drifting along until we were thrown together in this fucked-up
situation. My head tells me to let you go, but my heart is screaming to
chain you to my side.” Rick gripped Dorian’s hair, pulling his mate’s
head back, looking him right in his eyes. “Don’t leave me.” He
swallowed hard, knowing he was being a selfish bastard.

Dorian growled and pushed at Rick’s chest until Rick stumbled

back, falling back on the bed. His mate crawled over him, a savage
gleam in his darkening eyes. Rick wasn’t sure what the hell was
happening, but fuck if his cock wasn’t hard as steel.

“Can you feel me in your heart? Can you take it to your soul? I

don’t want to be alone. I’ve changed. But the thought of never seeing
you again isn’t an option.”

Without warning, Dorian slammed his lips over Rick’s. The kiss

was brutal, crushing, and Rick could taste the metallic flavor of blood

Lynn Hagen

in his mouth. Dorian tore at Rick’s shirt, an animalistic sound
rumbling in his throat.

Rick didn’t fight his mate.
Dorian was branding him, making his own claim, and Rick was so

turned on that he was about to explode in his jeans. He lay back and
let Dorian have his way. Once Dorian had his shirt ripped open, he
began to work on Rick’s pants. His movements were wild,
unforgiving, and dared Rick to interfere.

He didn’t do a damn thing but watch.
Dorian slipped from the bed, ripped Rick’s jeans down his legs,

and then looked at Rick with a wicked glint in his eyes before
swallowing his cock down to the root. Rick shouted as his eyes rolled
to the back of his head. His hips bucked, driving his cock further
down his mate’s hot mouth.

God, the man was sucking him so hard that Rick was mindless.

He threw his legs onto the bed, spreading them further apart as he
began to fuck Dorian’s mouth.

But his mate wasn’t having that. Dorian pressed Rick’s hips

down, keeping them in place as he ran his tongue around the head,
pulling the pre-cum out like honey, and then dove right back down
onto Rick’s cock.

“Fuck, gatito…fuck!” Rick shouted and then gritted his teeth,

staving off his orgasm. He wasn’t about to let this moment end so
soon, but if Dorian kept up at his current pace, he was a goner.

His damn legs were wobbling as Dorian rode Rick’s cock with his

lips, sliding them up and down his shaft, faster and faster. His head
was bobbing, the suction tight, and Rick felt like his damn brain was
melting into the side of his head.

“Dorian…please…god!” Rick threw his head back and ground his

back molars, curling his fingers into the bed. He wasn’t going to be
able to hold off. Not when Dorian was sucking him so goddamn good.

Fuck!

Rise to Fall

Rick began to rock his head back and forth as jolts of pure

pleasure pulsed through his body. The man was out to kill him.
Dorian had to be because Rick’s heart was beating so fast he feared it
would burst from his chest.

And then Dorian slid a finger into Rick’s ass.
His eyes crossed.
“Goddamn…motherfucker!” Rick howled as his body unraveled

right there. His hips shot up and his seed was being ripped from his
very balls. Stars began to form behind his eyelids. It took
concentrated effort to breathe.

When Dorian reared back, Rick cracked his heavy eyelids open to

see his mate naked. How in the—it didn’t matter. The only thing that
mattered was—Dorian pounced. He was on top of Rick and taking his
lips like a beast. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into the man, but hell
if Rick wasn’t enjoying every damn second.

“Mine,” Dorian growled at him with a tight command in his tone.
“Yours,” Rick said as his chest contracted rapidly. “All yours.”
Dorian nipped Rick on his chin and then attached his lips to one of

Rick’s nipples. His body was still riding the high of his climax, which
made his nipples ultrasensitive. Rick hissed, running his hands
through Dorian’s hair, pulling at the strands.

Dorian batted his hands away. “Keep them either at your sides, or

above your head.”

The only damn thing he could manage to do was nod as he

released Dorian’s hair, placing his hands at his sides, and curling the
fingers back into the blanket. There was no way he was chancing his
mate pulling away. He was going to do whatever the hell his mate
wanted just as long as Dorian didn’t stop. “I don’t have gentleness in
me right now. I want you too badly. I’m demanding, possessive, and
so damn hungry for you.”

Rick lay there stunned that Dorian had remembered what Rick

said the first time they had sex together. It had been over a year ago,

Lynn Hagen

but his mate repeated the words verbatim. “Show me.” Rick repeated
Dorian’s response from so long ago.

Dorian pressed one hand into Rick’s chest as he used the other to

grab the lube. He wet his fingers and then slid them into his ass, the
whole time never breaking eye contact. Rick was going out of his
mind. He wanted to watch Dorian stretch himself, but his mate wasn’t
letting him up.

Rick let out a low growl.
Dorian narrowed his eyes.
“Let me see.”
“Lie still or I’m getting off of you.”
Fuck this. Rick rolled with Dorian, intending on watching his

mate’s fingers slide in and out of his ass, but instead, they ended up
wrestling on the bed.

Which was an even bigger turn-on.
He pinned Dorian, but amazingly, Dorian got free. Rick must be

losing his touch. He leapt, taking his mate down, but Dorian grabbed
Rick’s upper arms and tossed him aside.

Shit.
“I warned you,” Dorian said as he tussled with Rick. Of course,

Rick wasn’t using all of his strength. He didn’t want to hurt his mate.

Until Dorian slugged him.
Rick knelt there stunned and then lifted his lip in a fierce growl,

taking Dorian down and mounting him. “Concede!”

“Not on your life.” Dorian struggled to get free, but Rick’s cock

was buried deep in his mate’s ass. There really wasn’t anywhere for
his mate to go.

“Damn it, submit!”
Dorian bucked back and then turned, dislodging Rick. His mate

was on Rick in seconds, pinning him to the floor before impaling
Rick’s cock. “You submit!”

Okay, what in the hell is going on here? “Gatito, are you okay?”

Rise to Fall

Dorian shook his head, tears filling his eyes as he rode Rick’s

body slow and easy, the fight gone just that fast. Rick was confused as
hell.

“I’m tired of feeling like a coward,” he whispered, burying his

face in Rick’s neck.

Rick pulled at Dorian’s head until his mate looked up, and then

Rick cupped his face. “But you’re not, Dorian. I told you, already.
You are the strongest man I know. I couldn’t have asked for a
stronger mate. It isn’t the fighting that makes you strong, but your
weaknesses.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
Rick rolled, placing Dorian underneath him, caressing Dorian’s

bottom lip with his thumb. “Your weaknesses show just how much
you care. It shows you don’t have a hard heart and no regard for lives.
You try your best to save as many people as you can. In truth, I
admire you.” Bracing his hands on either side of Dorian’s head, Rick
began to move slowly inside his mate. The gentle moves caused a
surge of heat to rise within him. “It’s the little things you say and do,
gatito. I love the fire in you. I love the gentleness in you as well.”

Rick leaned down, feeling Dorian’s warm breath on his lips.

“Temo que la profundidad de mi amor por ti. Sólo tú tienes el poder
destruime,” Rick whispered against Dorian’s lips before dipping his
head and nipping his mate’s lower lip. “I fear the depth of my love for
you. You alone hold the power to destroy me.”

Hooking an arm under one of Dorian’s legs, Rick lifted it higher,

driving his cock deeper, drowning in the intoxication of Dorian’s
body wrapped around him. His mate was warm and vibrant, the feel
of Dorian soaked through Rick’s skin and into his blood.

Dorian threw his head back and groaned, his eyes fluttering

closed. Rick gave a small growl when Dorian pressed the heel of his
free foot into Rick’s buttocks to impale himself deeper onto Rick’s
cock.

“That’s right, mi amor, take what you need from me.”

Lynn Hagen

Dorian lifted his ass higher, giving Rick room to plunge deeper.

He thrust harder, letting the scent of his mate’s arousal fill his lungs.
It was the sweetest scent in the world to Rick. His thrusts picked up as
he pistoned in and out of Dorian’s ass.

They began to move together in a rhythm so familiar and yet so

new each time they made love. His mate was so tight that it felt like a
velvety fist surrounded his cock. Burying his head in Dorian’s damp
hair, Rick moved a little faster, his thrusts becoming a little more
desperate. “I love you, gatito.”

Dorian turned his head, gazing up at Rick with his gorgeous

Peruvian-brown eyes. “I love you, too, Rick.” Muted moans and
erotic rocking told Rick his touch was welcome, that Dorian hadn’t
pulled emotionally away from him. Rick knew he was being selfish.
The right thing to do would be to send Dorian to Edward and let his
mate recuperate, but he couldn’t let the man go, ever.

Dorian was his mate. His to take care of. His to hold and love. His

to cherish. He couldn’t let the man go. He just couldn’t.

It was the stark truth and Rick knew it.
When Dorian arched his back, his lips parting, he knew the man

was driving him insane with pleasure as it washed over Rick’s body.
He gritted his teeth to fight for control. Tonight wasn’t about being
rough or rushed. Rick was making love to his mate, slow and
sensually.

The muscles around Dorian’s hole flexed and Rick damn near lost

his mind. When he glanced down at his mate, Dorian gave him a
devilish smile. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Rick leaned down and kissed each cheek. “I’m thinking about

you.”

“Stop thinking about me and fuck me.”
That was in invitation to surrender…to sin. Rick gladly accepted it

as he reared back and grabbed the other leg, pushing them forward as
he glanced down at his cock pushing and pulling from his mate’s ass.
“Fuck, you are so damn beautiful.”

Rise to Fall

His mate’s balls were drawn tight to his body as Dorian began to

twist and struggle underneath him. Rick knew his mate was close. He
could not only tell by the way his mate moved, but by the glossy look
in Dorian’s eyes.

They were filled with raw pleasure.
Rick thrust inside the tight depths of Dorian’s body, groaning on

every stroke at the tight heat clasping him. His fingers curled around
Dorian’s ankles, holding them tight as his began to push harder.

“Yes!” Dorian hissed.
Rick could feel the white-hot fingers of fire moving down his

spine now. His thrusts became feral and erratic as he fought for
release. Rick wanted to fly the same time Dorian did. “Stroke your
cock, baby.”

Dorian’s hand moved down his stomach and then his fingers

curled around his bouncing cock, stroking it at a rapid rate. The pre-
cum was leaking faster, dripping down the sides of Dorian’s fingers.

The sight and scent drove Rick close to the edge, dangling him

over the abyss, and then Rick fell, flying free as his entire body
shattered. Dorian’s body arched, his eyes widened, and he stared at
Rick in a dazed, wild hunger for a second before his cock began to
spurt white ribbons of seed.

His mate’s climax milked Rick’s cock in a vise grip, tearing his

own release from his body, making Rick howl out at the intensity.
The orgasm destroyed his sense of balance and Rick tumbled forward,
but caught himself before he crushed Dorian beneath him.

Rick smiled and kissed his mate gently on the lips.
And then the door crashed open and Rick saw twelve vampires

staring at him with death in their incandescent eyes.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Ten

Omar heard the shouts, and then he heard an anguished cry. He

knew what an anguished cry sounded like because he had heard the
sound for nearly a year as changelings were tortured.

As he was tortured.
He walked from the living room of the unfamiliar home and

glanced up the stairs. He could smell death and decay floating down
to him. It was a noxious odor that singed his airway and made the
breath slam out of his lungs. Omar had never smelled anything like it
before. He wasn’t sure what the odor was, but he knew it couldn’t be
anything good.

And then the overwhelming scent of blood hit him hard, almost

like a punch to the gut. His eyes began to shift and his mouth began to
water. Omar wanted. Oh, how he wanted. The scent was calling his
beast forward, making him want to hunt that which bled.

His head snapped to the right when the front door burst open and

Salvador raced through, heading up the stairs so fast that Omar
wondered if he had imagined the whole thing.

Uncertain, Omar ascended the stairs. The scents and sounds grew

louder as he approached Rick and Dorian’s bedroom. Something bad
was happening in there. The deadly vibes could be felt crawling along
his skin.

Death. Decay.
As Omar entered the room, his heart nearly stopped. The scene in

front of him was something made of nightmares.

Salvador was standing in front of a dozen strangers, shouting in

Portuguese and then in English. His tone was savage and his face was

Rise to Fall

contorted in rage. “Retornar para a escuridão. Return to the
darkness!”

Another howl rent the air, and Omar knew the devastated sound

belonged to his alpha. Moving forward, Omar saw why Rick was
howling and fighting like a man drowning in a pool of insanity.

The need to hunt diminished when Omar saw Dorian was pinned

to the wall by a sword that had gone through his stomach. The human
was sputtering, blood dripping from the sides of his mouth.

“No,” Omar whispered.
Thunderous footsteps could be heard, and then Nate, Sasha,

Selene, Benito, and Miguel appeared. Four of them burst into their
werewolf forms. Sasha shifted into his leopard form. All five entered
the room and joined in the fight. Teeth, claws, and growls flew
through the room, a battle ensuing.

Omar was terrified. The Mãos da Morte were not listening to

Salvador. The vampire repeated the command with severity, but none
stopped. He was only guessing that they were the boogeymen of the
preternatural world because there were twelve of them and the
changelings couldn’t seem to gain the upper hand no matter what
maneuvers they used. The Mãos da Morte were fast, lightning-fast.
They moved so quickly that Omar couldn’t keep up with them.

Freedman appeared at Omar’s side, gun in hand as he raced into

the room to join the fight.

It was total chaos.
Omar pulled at Salvador’s arm. “You have to save Dorian!”
Salvador threw his arms back and opened his mouth, a strange,

ear-piercing sound echoing through the room. The man’s fangs
lengthened, and the talons on the end of his fingers thickened.
Salvador’s face mottled as he flew further into the room.

Flew, not walked. Not raced. But flew.
Guns were being fired. Claws and teeth were being used. Howls,

yowls, and hissing filled the air until Omar thought he was going to
go deaf from the sounds.

Lynn Hagen

And the light began to gradually fade from Dorian’s brown eyes.

Omar wasn’t a fighter. He admitted this. But that fact didn’t stop him
from racing between the fighting creatures as he hurried toward
Dorian.

Omar knew better than to remove the sword from Dorian. It was

probably the only thing keeping the man alive as he dangled from the
impalement.

“Don’t you dare die,” Omar said fiercely as he stood in front of

the human. “Rick will save you.”

Omar’s head snapped over his shoulder as he watched Rick tear a

path through the Mãos da Morte. Omar knew they were undefeatable,
but Rick wasn’t listening to the legend. He was ripping through them.
The man’s eyes had gone feral, unfocused, and he was one dangerous-
ass man right now.

Omar turned back around.
Dorian was losing too much blood, and for some strange reason,

Omar didn’t have an urge to attack him. The man was dying, the life
fading further from his eyes.

“Save him!” Omar shouted to no one in particular. “Goddamn it,

save him!” The tears welled up in his eyes. Rick was Omar’s alpha.
Omar loved his alpha. He knew that if Dorian died, Rick’s humanity
would go with the human.

Salvador began chanting in Portuguese, but Omar wasn’t paying

attention to the words. There was a battle to the death occurring
behind him, and all he could think about was saving Dorian.

“Gatito!” Rick shouted, his voice raspy and raw, filled with so

much pain that the emotions were like living entities. Pain. Despair.
Hopelessness. Rage. “Gatito!”

Omar began to cry, fearing, but knowing in his heart, that Dorian

wasn’t going to make it. There was no way he could come back from
this. He had lost too much blood, the wound too severe.

Rick howled, the sound was so fucking heart wrenching that Omar

could feel the despair fill him up to painful completeness.

Rise to Fall

Omar cupped Dorian’s face, shaking him gently. “Dorian, stay

with me. Don’t leave Rick alone. You have to fight to stay alive.”

Dorian didn’t respond. He didn’t say a word as his eyes slowly

began to close.

“Wake the fuck up!” he shouted as he shook Dorian harder,

Omar’s tears falling faster.

It took a second to realize that the room had fallen silent. His ears

were still ringing from the sounds of gunshots and animalistic echoes.
Omar stepped back. Rick was at his side, his trembling fingers
cupping Dorian’s face. “No, gatito, no. Please, no.”

“Is he still breathing?” Salvador asked as he spun to face the

mated pair, but glanced Omar’s way.

He nodded.
A determined glint filled the vampire’s dark eyes. “Then move

aside.”

Rick spun around, his eyes narrowing as a warning growl vibrated

his chest. “Stay away.” An artic chill clung to his words.

Salvador didn’t back down. He didn’t even look intimidated as he

matched Rick’s tight glare. “Do you want to save him?”

“How?” Nate asked. “How can you save—” He waved a hand at

Dorian’s injury.

“Convert him,” Salvador replied.
“Hell no!” Rick shouted, his voice cold and lashing. “You are not

turning him into a fucking vampire! Over my dead body! No, no
way.”

“Then watch the life leave your mate,” Salvador said as he took a

step back. “That is your choice, not mine.”

Omar watched the struggle in Rick’s eyes. The man did not want

his mate to be a vampire. His breath burned in his throat as he tried
his best to hold back his tears. Never before had Omar seen Rick so
torn, so damn dangerous that he feared being in the same room with
the man. Not even when Silvia had driven Omar to Rick for

Lynn Hagen

punishment had Omar feared him this much. Rick looked like he was
on a deadly slope and going downhill fast.

But Salvador didn’t seem to be fazed by Rick’s animalistic rage.

“I can save him, and he can be changeling.”

Some of the rage in Rick’s face slipped, replaced by hopelessness.

Rick must have thought the same thing as Omar. Dorian couldn’t be
saved. “How? How can you do that?”

“I am nearly thirteen hundred years old. There is not much I

cannot do.”

“Do it.” The order in Rick’s tone was clear. “Save him and change

him into a werewolf.”

“But he doesn’t want to be—” Omar backed away when Rick

narrowed his light-grey eyes at him.

“Look at my mate like that again and I will walk out of here and

leave this mess in your hands,” Salvador warned as a low rumble
vibrated his throat.

Rick shook his head. “I don’t care if Dorian wanted to stay

human. Under normal circumstances, I would abide by his wish. But
he is dying, and I will do whatever I have to in order to save him.”

Salvador moved quickly, biting into Dorian’s neck. Omar watched

as the vampire pulled Rick close, and then Rick bit into Dorian’s
shoulder on the opposite side.

Omar knew Rick was performing the conversion.
“Won’t Dorian make Rick addicted to fang bites?” Omar asked,

but Salvador didn’t answer. He was still at Dorian’s neck. He
remembered the man saying his bites weren’t addictive because he
was born a vampire, but he knew Edward was bitten by a born
vampire and he refused to feed from Isabelle.

Did this mean Edward could feed from her without making her an

addict?

Salvador finally pulled away. But when Rick tried to ease back,

Salvador grabbed the back of Rick’s head and held him into place.
“He is very weak. I merely gave him a little more time to allow the

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lycanthropy to take effect, nothing more. You must not pull away too
soon or this will not work.”

Salvador turned to Omar, his dark eyes penetrating as the vampire

stared at him. “Dorian is not going to be a vampire, meu destino. He
will become changeling.”

Omar nodded. “But Rick’s sister, she mated a man who was bitten

by a muerto desde el útero. He won’t feed from her because he is
afraid she will become addicted to his bites.” Omar had to know. If
Edward could feed from Isabelle, that would be one burden off of the
mated pairs’ minds.

“If he was bitten by a true vampire, then he has nothing to worry

about. His bite will be very pleasurable, but she will not fall victim to
him. I curse the very day the first human was converted. The line of
true vampires has grown so thin that we are very few in numbers
now.” Salvador’s expression was morose.

“I’ll call Edward,” Nate said as he holstered his gun and pulled his

cell phone free. “He’ll be happy as hell to hear the news.”

“Where are the Mãos da Morte?” Omar asked. “Are they dead?”
Salvador glanced down at Omar, but didn’t give him an answer.

Omar wasn’t sure what to think. They had just disappeared into thin
air. He had never seen anything like that before. It was like watching
smoke clear the room. One minute everyone was fighting them, the
next they…he wasn’t even sure what they did. Again, it was like
smoke blowing away.

“Release him,” Salvador said to Rick. When the werewolf turned

their way, worry and fear was hanging heavy in the alpha’s eyes.

“The sword?” Rick asked as he stood next to Dorian’s body.
“Remove it.”
“I can take it out,” Miguel offered as he took a step forward, grim

determination lighting up his eyes. “You are my alpha, and I will do
whatever it takes to protect you, even from something as horrendous
as…you don’t have to do this.”

Lynn Hagen

Rick growled and Omar knew it was a sound from the heart of a

werewolf and man. “I will take care of my mate.” It was said with the
lethal confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was and didn’t
give a damn what anyone else thought. “The offer is greatly
appreciated, Miguel, but this task I have to do on my own.”

Controlled words, so damn controlled that Omar feared for Rick’s

sanity. Freedman moved in behind Omar, placing a hand on his
shoulder as everyone watched Rick yank the sword from Dorian’s
midsection, tossing the blade aside.

Dorian fell into Rick’s arms.
Rick caught him with the utmost care.
With the exception of Freedman, everyone knew Dorian would

not wake up until the conversion began. Honestly, he didn’t want to
be here when it started—if it started. Omar still wasn’t sure if this
would work at all.

“Come on,” Freedman said as he pulled Omar back, as if the man

had read his very thoughts about not wanting to be here. “This is their
time.”

The room cleared out, and before Omar walked out of the

bedroom door, he glanced back. Rick sat on the bed, rocking his mate
back and forth in his arms, silent tears trailing down his olive-colored
cheeks.

* * * *

Dorian wasn’t sure where he was or what was going on. He could

hear Rick’s voice somewhere off in the distance. His mate was crying
and begging Dorian to come back to him.

Where had he gone?
Dorian wanted to shout that he was right here, but he was trapped

inside his own mind. Only, his veins felt as though they were on fire.
Dorian felt something crack inside of him, and then another crack

Rise to Fall

occurred. He wasn’t sure what in the hell was going on, but fuck if he
didn’t want out of his body.

It hurt so damn badly that he opened his mouth and screamed at

the top of his lungs.

“Gatito,” Rick said in a voice thick with tears. “Oh, god…gatito.”
Dorian was free of his mind, his body now thrashing around, and

it felt like every single bone in his body was being snapped in half. He
was soaking in his own sweat, his body saturated as his back arched
and he let out another scream.

He felt a cool rag touch his face, but just that quickly the coolness

turned into heat. He was burning alive! “W–W–What’s wrong with
m–m–me?”

Something dark began to form inside of him. Dorian could feel

another presence deep within his soul. He wasn’t sure what it was, but
knowing another entity was sharing his body scared him down to the
core of his being.

“It is your wolf, gatito. Welcome him. Do not fear him.”
Dorian wasn’t sure how it was possible. He really wasn’t. But

somehow, he could see the creature. His instincts told him that it was
an embryo. It began to form inside of him, taking shape, its body
slowly, and painfully, forming. It was like looking at an ultrasound
and watching a baby developing inside its mother’s womb, only one
thousand times faster. It moved, kicked inside of him, and then began
to shake.

It was scared.
Dorian inwardly watched in horror and fascination as the wolf

began to take form and grow into a cub, then a small wolf, and
then…Dorian screamed as the beast filled every inch of his body,
bending his bones until he felt like he was going to shatter. Dorian
flipped over, trying to crawl away from the pain, but the pain
followed, amplified, and began to rip his skin from his very frame.

“R–R–Rick,” Dorian said as the pain began to sear his insides.

“Kill me!”

Lynn Hagen

“The pain will ease, Dorian. I promise. I promise.” The words

sank inside of him, but Dorian wasn’t sure if they held true. He was
being ripped apart from the inside out. Rick’s hands were gliding over
his body, but Dorian couldn’t take comfort in the touch. He was
heating up to nuclear proportions.

“Let him out, Dorian. Stop fighting him or you both could die!”
Dorian’s mind flooded with images of changelings in their beast

form, with images of the war, and with images of hunting. His arm
swung out and he felt it connect with something solid. He was not in
control any longer.

The wolf had taken over.
Leaping from the bed, Dorian felt his body explode, and then he

was standing there taking in his surroundings, feeling feral, hungry,
and a need gripped him to claim the male changeling in the room with
him, to make the creature submit.

He walked slowly forward, baring his teeth. He circled the bed,

his eyes locked onto the male changeling sitting there. When the male
stood to his full height, Dorian growled and crouched, readying
himself to attack.

“Stand down, juvenile,” the male commanded in a sharp tone.

“You are in the presence of your alpha.”

Dorian snapped his teeth together in challenge.
The male changeling moved closer, his eyes glowing a grey-

yellow. “Stand down, now.”

Dorian tilted his head back and sniffed the air, pulling the scent of

the changeling into his lungs. The aroma was familiar on this tongue.
He had tasted this male before.

Rick.
Rick had his claws out, and his canines were long and lethal.

“Shift back into your human form, Dorian. You cannot allow your
beast control or he will become the dominant force between the two
of you.”

No!

Rise to Fall

He is tricking you.
Dorian shook his head, clearing the wolf’s thoughts from his

mind. Rick was his mate. Rick wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. His
mate would do whatever was in Dorian’s best interest.

But god, the power he felt in this form. It was like nothing Dorian

had ever experienced before. There was a humming just under his
skin and it was a natural rush in and of itself. He wasn’t afraid in this
form. He didn’t feel like a coward in this form. He was strength,
agility, and—

“Shift!” Rick shouted close to his face, their noses nearly

touching. “Obey your alpha.”

“No,” Dorian rumbled the reply from a rough and raspy voice,

pulling his muzzle back in defiance.

Rick grabbed him by the throat, the tips of his claws pressed close

to his flesh. “I will not allow you to rule Dorian. He is my mate. Let
him go, juvenile.”

The wolf gnashed his teeth together, but Dorian knew Rick was

right. He needed to shift back to his human form. Little by little,
Dorian could feel the wolf pushing him down into the darkness of his
mind.

The wolf wanted to take over.
The wolf wanted to rule.
“No!” Dorian screamed and forced the wolf back, pushing him

away as he struggled to shift. Gradually, Dorian felt the fur recede,
along with his muzzle and claws. His body shook, and weariness took
hold, making Dorian nearly collapse.

Rick caught him as Dorian’s legs gave out. “I have you, gatito. I

have you.”

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Eleven

“So, we’re mates?” Freedman asked as he glanced at Salvador and

then Omar. The three had been standing in the room, none of them
saying a word, just…standing there.

This was awkward as hell.
He scratched at his chin, wishing someone would say something.
As he glanced between Salvador and Omar, Freedman admitted to

himself that being mated to these two wouldn’t be a hardship. Both
men were stunningly gorgeous.

But Salvador was nearly thirteen hundred years old. Talk about a

head trip. Maybe he could have moved past the whole vampire thing,
but damn, the man was fucking old—although he looked anything but
ancient. No, Salvador was all dark looks and bronzed skin. He was
deadly, sensual, and…fuck, Freedman needed to get his head
checked.

He was a United States soldier. Tough, hard-core, commanding,

and one confused-ass man. Ever since he had found out nonhumans
existed a few years ago, Freedman had tried to stay neutral in his
opinion. However he never thought he would be mated to a
changeling and a vampire.

And the vampire was an old guy.
“How do we know you are telling the truth?” Omar asked from

the opposite side of the room. The man had his back to the wall, his
arms crossed over his chest, and looked like he was ready to bolt at
any second.

Ever since laying eyes on Omar last year, Freedman’s insides

sighed every time he looked the man’s way. There was just something

Rise to Fall

about the changeling that made Freedman want to wrap him up in
cotton and cuddle him close at the same time. Omar was gorgeous
with his light-blue eyes and silky blond hair. He reminded Freedman
of someone who needed protection from the world.

And he was so willing to protect the guy. He was captivated with

the small changeling. If Omar ever said yes, Freedman would be all
over him in a heartbeat. He wanted to tap that ass in the worst sort of
way.

“Look into my eyes,” Salvador said calmly to Omar. “Vampires

can enthrall whomever they want. But they cannot enthrall their
mate.” Salvador smiled, and the smile only lent to the man’s beauty.
“In our case, mates.”

“Don’t you have any other way to prove you are my mate besides

that?” Omar asked. “As old as you are, you could have developed a
way not to snare someone in your eyes.”

“You are a stubborn male, Omar,” Salvador said. “Come to me

and I will prove you are my destiny.”

“Not on your life,” Omar muttered. “I’ve been used enough.”
The look on Omar’s face made Freedman’s heart squeeze. The

man had been tortured for nearly a year. There was no way he was
going to trust anyone near him right now. Omar wasn’t even going to
trust what anyone said. Freedman also remembered Rick telling him
some detective had used Omar for sex. That thought made
Freedman’s anger hit the roof. Too bad the detective was dead.
Freedman would have loved to have a face-to-face “talk” with the
man.

Using his gun, of course.
Freedman sat on the edge of the dresser in the bedroom, clasping

his hands on his thighs. “Yes, Salvador, is there another way you can
prove to us you are our mate?”

Omar’s eyes snapped over to Freedman, and Freedman was

stunned to feel affection whisper between them. It was like nothing he
had ever felt before. He could feel Omar’s emotions.

Lynn Hagen

“Stop it!” Omar shouted, his face mottled with anger. “I have been

manipulated enough. I don’t need you to give my emotions to anyone
so they know how I feel.”

Freedman nearly choked on Omar’s rage. It was thick and

distasteful. He wanted to scrub it off of his tongue. “Leave him
alone.”

Salvador glanced over at Freedman, and he could feel the vampire

pushing inside his head. Freedman was off the dresser and across the
room in under a second, shoving his face into Salvador’s. “You do not
have permission to be inside my head!”

“You are not biting me,” Omar added.
Salvador’s head slowly turned, his eyes blazing in red. An instinct

inside of Freedman told him to back away, but he would be damned if
he allowed this vampire to intimidate him. He would have to come up
with something scarier than blazing red eyes to make Freedman
afraid.

“I do not have to bite you. I do not have to do anything. We are

mates. It is that simple.” A matter-of-fact statement with no emotions.

Freedman growled and shoved at Salvador’s chest. “Says who?”
Salvador had Freedman pinned to the wall before Freedman had a

chance to blink his eyes. There was a wild growl in the man’s throat
as he held Freedman in place. “It is what I say, Freedman. That is all
that matters. You would do good to remember whom you are
speaking to.”

“Get your damn hands off of me.” Freedman spoke through

gritted teeth as he looked Salvador directly in his eyes. “I don’t give a
shit who you are.”

Freedman felt that deep connection to Salvador once again—the

same connection he had felt on the road when he helped Salvador
feed. It was like a steel band tying them together, aligning their souls
as one. But he ignored it. For all he knew, this could be some sort of
vampire trick.

Rise to Fall

Salvador loosened his grip, but didn’t let Freedman go. Instead, he

grabbed Freedman’s chin and closed the distance, capturing
Freedman’s lips. He was so stunned that he didn’t pull away. He
stood there and allowed Salvador’s tongue to explore his lips,
pushing, pressing to get inside.

Freedman opened and Salvador’s tongue swept in, taking

possession and making Freedman moan. The vampire reached up and
slid his hand behind Freedman’s neck, pulling him closer as he took
the kiss deeper. Freedman’s cock became engorged and heavy, his
insides feeling as if someone had set him on fire. Salvador moved
closer, pressing their chests together, his tongue tracing over
Freedman’s teeth and lips.

It was the hottest kiss Freedman had ever received.
His slid his arms around Salvador’s waist and then ran his hands

up the man’s back, sucking at the vampire’s tongue, tasting,
exploring. The guy tasted so damn good that Freedman wanted to
drown in the intoxication.

He hitched his hips, rocking his cock into Salvador’s. Freedman

could feel that Salvador was just as hard as he was. The back of his
head hit the wall when Salvador started kissing Freedman along his
jaw, and then gradually making his way to Freedman’s neck. It felt
like small fires were being lit every place the man’s lips touched.

His mind shouted for Freedman to step back and look at what he

was doing. Freedman slammed the door on the protests as his hands
wandered over Salvador’s back and sides, and then worked their way
up to his hair. Freedman tugged at the jet-black strands, his eyes
fluttering closed as Salvador nipped his neck.

Freedman’s eyes flew open and he shoved Salvador away, his

hand flying to his neck. When he pulled it back, there was a small
amount of blood on his fingers. “What in the hell did you think you
were doing?”

“Using you,” Omar said softly.

Lynn Hagen

Freedman glanced over at Omar and felt like shit for forgetting the

man was in the room with them. “What?”

Omar waved a hand at his own head. “He was blurring your brain

so you wouldn’t fight him.”

Freedman’s head snapped back around and then he reared his arm

back and slugged Salvador in the jaw. The vampire jumped back and
then the room began to darken. The lights had dimmed and a cold
breeze began to blow. “You dare strike me?”

“You dare fuck with my mind?” Freedman countered. “You might

be a powerful man where you come from, but you can’t go around
manipulating people.” Freedman narrowed his eyes. “Especially not
me.”

The furniture in the room began to vibrate as Salvador’s eyes

darkened impossibly, turning into pools of black liquid. “I did nothing
to your mind. What you felt, what you gave, was of your own free
will.”

Freedman refused to believe he had fallen so easily into

Salvador’s arms. He was a man who thought things through. He
wasn’t the type to do something on impulse. “Liar.”

A chair lifted from the floor and smashed into the wall, but it

wasn’t anywhere close to Freedman or Omar. The curtains began to
sweep up into the air, the floor shook beneath Freedman’s feet, and
the bathroom door slammed shut.

“Stop showing off,” Freedman said with a growl. “You don’t

scare me.”

“He scares me,” Omar whispered.
Everything stopped at once with Omar’s confession. Salvador

looked at the man with sorrowful eyes. “I did not mean to frighten
you, meu destino.”

Freedman watched as Salvador crossed the room and lifted

Omar’s chin with a knuckle. Omar looked terrified. “Know this. I
would never harm you, pequeno guerreiro.”

Rise to Fall

Omar pulled his chin free. “I’m not a warrior. If I was, they would

have never—” He curled his lips in, glancing away.

“Not even the strongest man could have stopped them from their

cruelty, Omar,” Freedman said. “It wasn’t about your fighting them.
You survived. That is what makes you strong.”

Omar glared at Freedman. “Tell that to my nightmares.”

* * * *

Omar hadn’t meant for that to slip. He had sworn to himself that

no one would know the horrors he had endured. “I need air.” Omar
moved away from both men, feeling trapped. He scuttled toward the
bedroom door and opened it, hurrying outside into the hallway.

What Salvador had done had screwed with his head. Omar had

never known anyone who could move objects with their mind. It was
downright scary.

But what was scarier was that he knew the vampire was telling the

truth. Omar just didn’t want to admit it. He just couldn’t deny to
himself that he had two mates. He should be a raving lunatic by now.
The scientists had tried to make him a babbling idiot.

But he hadn’t allowed them to break him.
Although changing into a cougar had blown his mind. They had

tried to take away his ability to shift. So how in the hell had he gained
another breed? A better question was, did he have any other breeds
inside of him besides werewolf and cougar?

“Fuck,” Omar said softly as he hurried down the steps. He really

did need fresh air. His head was spinning with too many thoughts.

“You shouldn’t go out there alone,” Nate said from the living

room as Omar passed the room. “It isn’t safe.”

Omar ignored Nate as he stepped outside, inhaling the night air.

He was feeling trapped again, even though he was standing on the
front porch. His skin began to feel like bugs were crawling all over
him.

100

Lynn Hagen

Nate stepped out behind him. “Something wrong, Omar?”
“No,” Omar answered quickly, scratching his arms, trying to get

rid of the creepy feeling. As the itching intensified, Omar knew it was
more than just his nerves. He could feel something moving inside of
him, and it wasn’t the beasts he knew to be there.

It was something else.
“You don’t look so hot.”
“I don’t feel so hot either,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m going to

be sick.”

“Easy, now,” Nate said as he placed a hand on Omar’s shoulder.

“Is it being free after spending nearly a year locked up? Is that was
has you so jumpy?”

Omar glanced at Nate, looking him in his jade-green eyes. “I’m

not jumpy.”

“Omar, you’re twitching.”
Glancing down, Omar saw his hands and arms twitching slightly,

just as Nate had said. “S–Something’s wrong with me, Nate.”

Nate ran his hand over Omar’s back, trying to give him

reassurance. “There is nothing wrong with you, Omar. They tried to
head-fuck you. That is all. Just give it time. You’ll get through this.”

“No,” Omar said as he glanced at his hands and saw…hooves.

Fucking hooves! Just what in the hell had they done to him at the
detention center? He had survived so many injections that he wasn’t
sure what they had turned him into. He held his hooves up for Nate to
see.

“Holy shit!” Nate said as he jumped back, staring at Omar’s hands

with wide eyes. “What the fuck?”

“Something is wrong with me.” Omar waved his

hands…er…hooves around, trying to get them off of him. “Nate,
make them go away!”

“Hold still, Omar.”
As hard as it was, Omar stilled, holding his hooves toward Nate.

“Now what?” he asked in a panic.

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101

“Fuck if I know. But I didn’t want you hitting me with those

things.” Nate examined Omar’s hands…from a distance. “I think you
need to finish shifting so we can see what you are.”

“I don’t have a special little fucking gift hidden under my

wrapper, Nate!” Omar shouted. “Make them go away!”

“Omar, shift,” Nate said exasperatedly. “That is the only way to

make this go away. Shift and then shift back into your human form.”

“O–Okay,” Omar said as he swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what

he was going to shift into, but he was going to do as Nate said. Omar
closed his eyes and let the change take over.

“Oh, hell,” Nate said.
Omar opened his eyes, and then backed away. Nate was looking at

Omar like he was dinner. “You’re a deer.”

Oh boy.
Omar took off, running for his life as Nate chased him down. This

was not the help he needed. He had become prey to Nate’s werewolf.
He opened his mouth to shout for help, but the only sound that came
out was something that sounded like a wheeze. To Omar’s ears, the
sound was a cross between a baby cry and a toy kazoo.

He was in big trouble.
His heart was thundering in his chest as he raced between houses,

trying his best to outrun Nate. The man had shifted into his werewolf
form and was gaining on Omar. Doubling back around, Omar made it
to the house and began to bang his head into the front door.

If someone didn’t answer soon, he was going to be Nate’s dinner.
Sasha opened the door and Omar’s heart nearly gave out. The

leopard’s eyes began to glow. Omar swiftly ran by the man and up the
stairs, stumbling a few times. He wasn’t used to this form.

Once he reached the bedroom door he knew Freedman and

Salvador were behind, he rammed his head into the door over and
over again. Surprisingly, the door didn’t give, but he heard a low
growl behind him.

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Lynn Hagen

Oh shit! Sasha had shifted into his leopard form and Nate—still in

his werewolf form—was coming up the steps.

Freedman answered the door and Omar raced inside.
“Omar?” Freedman asked.
He ran in circles, trying his best to tell Freedman to close the door,

but that weird noise was the only thing coming out.

Nate and Sasha appeared at the door, their eyes zeroing in on

Omar.

Salvador hissed as he flew in front of Omar. “Come near him and

I will turn you into guinea pigs.”

“You can do that?” Freedman asked.
Omar didn’t care. He just wanted the two predators to leave him

the hell alone. He concentrated on his human form and then shifted.
“Slam the door!”

Freedman slammed the door in Sasha and Nate’s face. “You were

a deer, Omar.”

“So glad you noticed,” Omar said as he stood there shivering from

fear. He ran his hands up and down his arms, praying the deer scent
hurried up and dissipated. He could still scent the two outside the
door.

“How?” Freedman asked. “Was it like when you turned into a

cougar?”

Omar crawled onto the bed and pulled the covers over his head.

This couldn’t be happening to him. He was a fucking werewolf, not a
cougar, and most certainly not a deer. If he wasn’t terrified of being
held prisoner again, he would go back to the detention center and beat
the snot out of Dr. Formente. The man had turned him into a freak.
Was that the man’s intention? He had gotten the feeling the doctor
was trying to take away his lycanthropy werewolf gene, not add to it.
Just how many animals did he have inside of him?

The bed dipped. “You okay?” Freedman asked.
As Omar’s nerves settled, the image of Freedman opening the

door played in his mind. The man had kiss-swollen lips. The damn

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103

human and Salvador had been at it again. How could Freedman let the
vampire anywhere near him? The guy drank blood for crying out
loud. “No.”

Freedman tugged at the blanket, but Omar held fast to it. “Go

away.”

The man didn’t go away. “Talk to me, Omar. What happened?”
“I turned into a fucking deer, Freedman. What do you think

happened?” he shouted from under the blanket. “Just…go away.”

“If you think turning into a deer is bad, try being human.”
Omar lowered the blanket. “Is that supposed to make me feel

better?”

The side of Freedman’s mouth twitched. If the man smiled, Omar

was going to deck him. “It wasn’t supposed to make you feel worse.”

Omar glanced up at Salvador, who had moved closer to the bed,

and he saw the humor in the man’s dark eyes. He threw the blanket
over his head. “Go away.”

He curled the blankets in his fingers when he felt the bed dip once

more. Salvador’s scent became stronger. “Go away,” he repeated once
more.

“Not until you tell us why a werewolf and leopard were chasing

you,” Freedman said.

Omar lowered the blanket, giving Freedman a look that said he

was dense. “Maybe because I became prey.”

“Shall I kill the two for trying to turn you into a meal?” Salvador

asked.

Omar threw the covers over his head once more. “Just go away.”

It hadn’t slipped his mind that he was naked, and two very dominant
males were sitting on either side of him. He also didn’t like how his
body was reacting to them. He shouldn’t be aroused. He should be
steaming mad at what just happened.

“Get the fuck out here, Salvador!” Rick shouted from the other

side of the door, “and explain to me what you did to my mate!”

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Omar eased the blanket down, staring at the door. Just what in the

hell was going on in this loony bin?

* * * *

Vice Admiral Harrington hurried toward his car, his briefcase

grasped tightly in his hand. He had stumbled across something so
damn colossal that he feared for his life.

Enrique Marcelo was Captain O’Hanlon’s bastard son—his

animal son. Worse, Harrington had discovered that O’Hanlon had
fail-safes in place just in case this plan of theirs blew up in their faces.

The man had been working behind Harrington’s and Admiral

James’s backs this entire time. Harrington planned on exposing the
captain, making damn sure O’Hanlon took the fall for this entire war.

As he stepped out into the street, Harrington heard the screech of

tires and knew it was too late to move out of the way as the large
truck came barreling toward him.

* * * *

The driver quickly jumped out of the truck, raced toward the dead

man in the street, and grabbed the briefcase. Glancing around, he
hurried back inside his truck and took off.

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105

Chapter Twelve

Salvador inwardly groaned. He knew why Enrique was here. He

just didn’t want to hear it. When Freedman got off the bed to go
answer the door, Salvador was tempted to tell his mate not to.

Again, he did not want to hear what Enrique had to say.
Freedman opened the door and Enrique stormed in, pointing a

finger at Salvador. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Salvador rose from the bed, strangling the urge to mentally shove

the man from the room and slam the door in his face. He usually
punished anyone who talked to him in his manner, but it seemed
everyone around him had one mode. Angry.

“Would you have let me save his life if you knew?” Salvador

posed the question. He was beginning to see that Americans had a
very short temper. So did Salvador, and Enrique was about to find out
if he didn’t tone his rage down a notch.

Enrique’s lips thinned to the point they almost disappeared. “I

would have done whatever I had to in order to save his life and you
know it. But you could have warned me. You could have told me
everything!”

“What didn’t you tell him?” Freedman asked as he glanced

between the two and then settled his eyes on Salvador.

Salvador shrugged. “That his mate’s life is now tied to his

heartbeat, and vice versa.

Freedman cursed. “Just like Edward and Isabelle.”
“And?” Enrique growled. “You left out something else,

bloodsucker.”

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Lynn Hagen

Salvador flew into Enrique’s space, hissing loudly. “Do not insult

me again!”

“What else?” Freedman asked and then his lips slightly parted, his

eyes growing round. “Dorian needs to feed from Rick.”

Enrique’s large hands curled at his sides. “That information would

have been helpful when Dorian attacked me.”

“He attacked you?” Omar asked from under the blanket.

“Really?”

Enrique glanced at the bed, which sent Salvador’s already

simmering anger through the roof. His mate was naked under that
blanket, and he didn’t like anyone near the man when he was in that
state.

If he had it his way, he would take Freedman and Omar and go

home to Brazil. But he had Kraven to deal with. “So feed him.”

“First you kidnap him from me, and then—”
“I borrowed him,” Salvador said as he cut Enrique off.
“If you weren’t Freedman and Omar’s mate, I’d kill you,” Enrique

said, his voice low and filled with deadly intent.

Salvador leaned closer. “You could try, boy.”
The two large men in the hallway grabbed the werewolf alpha,

pulling him back as Enrique tried to come after Salvador. “If you ever
call me boy again, I’ll slice your fucking throat and feed you to the
buzzards!”

Salvador’s mind flooded with memories he did not want to

reminisce upon. “Again, you could try.”

“Nate, Sasha, get Rick out of here.” Freedman turned toward

Salvador. “Ease up,” he said as he put his hands on Salvador’s chest
and moved him back. “His mate almost died, and he has been through
a shitload since this war started. Cut him some damn slack.”

Salvador gave Freedman a slight nod. For his mate, he would back

down…this time. Enrique may have been through a shitload since the
war started, but it was nothing compared to what Salvador had

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endured over the course of his lifetime. He had sworn to himself that
no one was going to disrespect him again.

Not even a distraught changeling.
He had been held captive and tortured for over five hundred years

by werehyenas. His entire back, thighs, and calves were disfigured
from humans who had managed to capture him when he was in his
youth. He had been starved to the point of nearly dying only three
hundred years ago, and the list went on and on.

Enrique had only been fighting for over a year.
Although Salvador felt for the man and his pain of nearly losing

his mate, he refused to allow anyone to speak to him like he was
below them. He had fought his way through life, sometimes killing to
stop himself from being killed. He would be damned if anyone
thought they had the upper hand with him.

Enrique gave Salvador one last scathing glare before pivoting and

heading out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Salvador turned, heading back toward the bed, and then taking a

seat on the mattress. He was weary, and all he wanted to do was find
solace in his mates, but he knew they wouldn’t welcome him.

It was true he had searched for them his entire existence. But now

that he had found them, he was not being comforted as he should be.
When he was held captive, Salvador would lie in his prison,
wondering what his mate would look like and how he would feel in
Salvador’s arms. It had kept him sane over the centuries.

To find out he had two mates was shocking, but welcome. If only

they would welcome him.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Omar asked.
“Because, pequeno guerreiro,” Salvador began, “he was appalled

when he thought the human was going to be a vampire.” And it had
hurt. Salvador knew his species was feared more than the
changelings. He loved who he was and was proud to be a vampire.
But the conversion of his kind and their disregard for life had turned

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everyone’s opinion sour when it came to vampires. Now they were a
loathed race of beings.

If it was up to him, no other human would become a vampire and

the ones converted would be destroyed. They knew nothing of honor
or what it meant to be such a special being. They hunted, killed, and
made addicts out of their victims. That alone appalled Salvador. To
see humans turn into mindless junkies ate at his very soul.

Freedman sat down next to him, placing his hand on Salvador’s

leg. He could feel the heat soak into his scarred thigh, and Salvador
had an urge to curl into Freedman’s side. “Just go easy on him.”

“Salvador doesn’t know anything about suffering,” Omar stated,

his voice clipped.

Salvador turned, glancing down at the blond-haired man. “Know

what you are speaking of before you part your lips.” Salvador opened
the bridge between his mind and Omar’s, showing him only a sliver
of what he had been through. He also opened Freedman’s mind as
well. If he showed them everything, the two would go mad. Salvador
had no doubt whatsoever, so he gave them a mere glimpse into his
past. He showed them of the time when he was a youth and was
attacked by humans, leaving him nearly dead, his body so savaged
that the attack left everlasting scars.

Omar cringed, staring at Salvador in horror. His light-blue eyes

filled with fear and untold anguish. “Oh my god,” Omar whispered.

“Holy fuck,” Freedman said under his breath.
Salvador closed the bridge and then moved over the bed, lying

down. “If you do not wish me dead, please make sure the sun does not
penetrate this room.” Because he was tired as hell and needed to close
his eyes for a few moments. Using his energy in his fit of rage to
make things in the room move had drained him. That was the problem
with getting older. His powers grew stronger as he aged, but he was
drained faster when he used them.

Freedman nodded. “No problem,” he said, audibly swallowing.

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Salvador closed his eyes, letting out a weary breath. He needed to

feed, but knew neither man would allow him. He wasn’t in any
danger, at the moment, of falling into a coma from his weakened
state, so rest would suffice.

* * * *

Freedman stood by the bed and stared down at the two men as

they slept. He had been attracted to Omar since first laying eyes on
him. And since seeing the pain and suffering Salvador had gone
through, his opinion of the vampire had changed, drastically.

Walking over to the window, Freedman closed the heavy drapes.

He knew they would be leaving soon to go to Sellers’s labs. Salvador
would have to wait until dark before he could join them.

Freedman didn’t want to leave the vampire here when they left,

but he knew Salvador couldn’t ride with them in broad daylight.

Turning away from the window, Freedman saw that Salvador

wasn’t asleep. He was lying there watching him. “You should rest,”
Freedman said softly, not wanting to wake Omar.

He knew there were depths to the vampire that he didn’t know yet.

The same held true for Omar. He was determined to get to know them
both. Even though Omar had posed logical questions about the three
of them being mates, he knew the truth.

He felt their connection.
He knew a dangerous man when he saw one, and there was no

disputing the fact that Salvador was one very dangerous man. But
Freedman knew the guy wouldn’t hurt him or Omar. He sure as hell
wouldn’t stand by and allow either of them to treat him like a door
mat, though. The vampire had proven that fact when the entire room
had begun to move around earlier. But hurting them wasn’t something
the man would do.

Walking over to the bed, Freedman sat down. He and Salvador

locked eyes, and a raw need began to tighten in his groin.

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“I need to feed.” It was a blunt statement.
“Sorry, fresh out of dead yahoos.” Freedman was joking, but he

knew what Salvador was asking. The thing was, could he do it? Could
he tilt his head and allow the man to drink from him? The vampire
had said his bites weren’t addictive, but it made Freedman
uncomfortable as hell.

Salvador rose from his prone position, moving toward Freedman

like a graceful predator. His bronzed face drew closer, his lips slightly
parting. Freedman blinked, amazed at how much he wanted this man.

“Will you let me feed from you, meu amor?” Salvador grazed his

lips over Freedman’s cheek, his warm breath made Freedman briefly
close his eyes as he tried to slow his racing heart. “Or do you fear
me?”

Freedman glanced into Salvador obsidian eyes. “I’m intelligent

enough to fear what you can do,” he said in a low tone, mesmerized
by the twin orbs. “But I don’t fear you as a person.”

Lips as soft as silk skimmed over Freedman’s neck, making him

shiver with need. His cock was painfully hard and images of what
could be between them filled his mind. Then Freedman realized that
Salvador was putting those images in his mind, showing Freedman
what he wanted to do to him.

His cock pulsed with need.
“I could make it so pleasurable for you, my love.” Salvador’s

tongue slid over Freedman’s Adam’s apple. “So pleasurable.”

“No mind tricks,” Freedman managed to say between pants. “It

has to be genuine.”

“I promise.” Salvador breathed the words over Freedman’s skin.
He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to feed the man. Freedman

never thought he would do something like this. Normally, he
wouldn’t. But Salvador was his mate. Freedman knew from being
around Rick’s Rebellion group how precious a mate was. Rick had
told him that mates had an unbreakable bond that only grew deeper
with time.

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Freedman had craved to have something even remotely close to

what Rick had described. And now he had it, or would have it once
the three of them got their act together. “How do I do this?” Freedman
asked.

Salvador sealed his lips over Freedman’s neck, sucking up a

bruise as he slowly lowered Freedman to the bed. His insides formed
knots, his muscles locked into place, waiting for the man to bite him.

But all Salvador did was suck erotically at his neck. The sensation

only made Freedman’s cock harder, throbbing more heavily in his
pants. Gentle hands slid down Freedman’s sides until they reached the
snap on his jeans.

Freedman held his breath as Salvador slowly began to work

Freedman’s jeans free. Salvador pulled away from Freedman’s neck
and took Freedman’s pants down and all the way off. He stopped
momentarily to remove Freedman’s shoes, and then Freedman was
naked from the waist down.

God, I’m about to have sex with a vampire. The thought startled

and excited him in the same measure. But Freedman couldn’t just lie
there. He pulled at Salvador’s shirt until the man lifted his arms and
allowed Freedman to slide it over the man’s head, tossing it aside.

“Diga que você me quer. Diga que você precisa de mim tanto

quanto eu preciso de você.”

Freedman hadn’t a clue what the man just said, but it sounded so

erotic, so sensual in the thick accent that he shivered.

“Say you want me. Say you need me just as much as I need you,”

Omar recited, his back turned to both of them. “You really should
speak English. You are going to confuse the hell out of Freedman.”

Freedman turned, but gazed up at Salvador first, giving him a look

that said he wasn’t finished with the man, not by far. Salvador dipped
his head, saying he understood, and then Freedman slipped under the
covers, pressing his bare chest to Omar’s naked back.

Omar stiffened.

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“Tell me to back off and I’ll move away,” Freedman said as he

pressed his lips to Omar’s ear. “I swear this to you.”

Omar didn’t say a word, but neither did he relax. Freedman lay

there holding the changeling, his breath shallow. The man’s heat
began to slowly seep into Freedman, his cock pressed between
Omar’s butt cheeks.

The man didn’t move away.
Splaying his fingers, Freedman ran his hand down Omar’s chest.

When his hand reached the man’s lower stomach, he felt the head of
his mate’s cock.

Omar was rock hard.
Salvador moved in behind Freedman, his lips grazing over

Freedman’s exposed shoulder, sending tiny sparks of electricity along
his flesh. This would be the first time Freedman had ever been with
two men at the same time, and the thought excited him. Salvador and
Omar weren’t two strangers sating a need, but his mates. That thought
only made what they were doing more intimate, more profound in his
eyes.

And having the changeling he had been attracted to for a very

long time only solidified Freedman’s need to protect the man from the
world.

He grazed his fingers over the head of Omar’s cock and then

played in the man’s pre-cum. He slid the clear liquid over his fingers,
enjoying how it felt. Omar’s breath was coming out in short gasps.

Freedman pressed his lips to the nape of Omar’s neck and slid his

tongue across the smooth expanse, tasting the salty skin as Salvador’s
fingers curved around Freedman’s ass. He wasn’t sure if he should
press forward into the crease his cock was nestled in, or push back
into Salvador’s warm hand.

Both options filled him with desire and a need that was making

his head spin.

“Place him between us,” Salvador whispered into Freedman’s ear.

“Let us both show the changeling how much we want him.”

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It was Omar’s decision. Freedman wasn’t going to force the man.

If Omar wanted them both, he would let them know. If he only
wanted Freedman, then he wasn’t going to move the guy.

Omar gave a slight nod.
Freedman mentally pumped his arm in the air. He was going to

tap that tight little ass. He had to breathe out slowly, gaining a
measure of control before sliding Omar over him and settling the
smaller man between him and Salvador.

Of course, Freedman made sure Omar’s ass was turned toward

him.

“It’s all yours,” Salvador said with a chuckle. The smile made the

man’s dark eyes shimmer. It was a beautiful sight.

“In my mind again?” Freedman asked.
“No, my love. I can feel your need thick in the air.”
“So can I,” Omar said with a slight snip. “Why don’t you just call

dibs on my ass so—”

“Dibs!” Freedman quickly shouted and then felt his face flush

with embarrassment as Salvador laughed. Even though Freedman was
blushing from his outburst, he felt the stroke of the man’s laughter
deep inside of him where no one should have been able to reach. He
had sealed his heart off from feeling anything tender toward a lover
ever since the love of his life had crushed Freedman’s heart into a fine
powder under his foot.

He swore he wasn’t going to fall for another man.
And he wasn’t. The three of them were going to have a good time,

but Freedman’s heart was going to stay intact—and wholly his.

Omar gave a throaty growl, which only made Freedman’s cock

throb. The noise was too damn sexy.

“Then I call dibs on his tempting cock,” Salvador said, even

though Freedman could tell the man didn’t fully understand what dibs
meant. The guy was basically calling claim to one of Omar’s body
parts—and a damn good choice in Freedman’s opinion. He
understood the word enough to grasp what he wanted, though.

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Omar just lay between them, his light-blue eyes wide as they

flickered from Freedman to Salvador. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Watch,” Freedman said as he bounced his brows up and down.

Omar looked skeptically at Freedman until Salvador slid down the
bed and swallowed Omar’s cock down to the root.

“Goddamn!” Omar shouted as his hands slammed onto Salvador’s

head.

Freedman just watched in fascination as the vampire worked

Omar’s cock with expertise. Salvador was using his lips, tongue, and
teeth as Omar arched into Freedman’s chest, his breathing becoming
labored.

Gripping Omar’s chin, Freedman tilted the guy’s head back and

kissed a trail down his neck, adding pleasure to what Salvador was
already giving Omar. The man in his arms bucked, his moans echoing
through the room. Freedman hitched his hips as he sucked at Omar’s
neck, letting his cock slide up and down between the crease in Omar’s
ass. “You want to feel my big, thick cock in your ass, stretching you
wide?” Freedman asked Omar, keeping his tone silky smooth.

Freedman’s eyes dipped, locking with Salvador’s as the man

continued to drive Omar wild with his wicked mouth. There was a
sparkle in Salvador’s eyes, but Freedman knew without a doubt that
this man was a predator inside and out.

The two men made Freedman feel raw and wild things that

threatened to break his vow—a vow of never giving his heart to
anyone. Strangling the strange emotions budding inside of him,
Freedman reached down and ran the tips of his fingers over Omar’s
quivering hole. “I’m going to shove my dick right in here.” He
pressed a tip into the entrance.

“Shove it. Shove it,” Omar begged breathlessly as he pushed back

on Freedman’s finger.

Freedman chuckled.

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Salvador released Omar’s cock and moved up the bed, his eyes

sultry and dark. “And then I’m going to shove my cock into your ass,
Freedman.”

Freedman forgot how to breathe. Well, damn! That was an

invitation he would gladly take the man up on. It had been too long
since he felt rough hands holding him down as he was fucked clean
into the mattress.

“You’re on,” Freedman said with a wink before rolling Omar onto

his stomach. The blond-haired man was pliable, rolling over with
ease. He jutted his ass in the air, candidly showing Freedman what he
wanted.

And damned if Freedman wasn’t ready to deliver.
“Lube, we need lube.” Freedman was desperate. He knew without

a doubt—more than he had ever known anything in his entire life—
that if he didn’t get his cock into Omar’s ass in the next sixty seconds,
the damn thing would break off.

It was just a given fact of life.
“Uh…lube?” Omar fluttered innocently at Freedman over the

man’s shoulder as if he had never heard of the slippery stuff.

Freedman’s heart was pounding out of control. He was going to

have a coronary. He just knew it. “Lube, baby, you know, the slick
stuff, nut cream, hand lotion, oil, bath soap. Hell, at this point, I’d
settle for Crisco.”

Omar’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. “Really?”
Freedman stared down at Omar, letting the man see the full

measure of his need for the very first time. He had always held that
part of himself back, especially from the changeling. He hadn’t
wanted to scare Omar for one. He was also a little afraid of being so
enamored with one single person.

Lucky him, now he had two.
Omar inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes darting around wildly.

“Okay, we need lube.”

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“Will this suffice?” Salvador asked as he held up a bottle of cocoa

butter hand cream.

“Yes!” Freedman grabbed the small bottle and damn near ripped

the lid off. The burp that came from the bottle as the cream inside
dropped out onto his fingers was one of the most satisfying sounds
Freedman had ever heard. He made sure that his fingers were liberally
lathered then handed the bottle back to Salvador.

“Ready, baby?” he asked as he looked down into Omar’s big pale-

blue eyes.

Omar gulped then nodded his head. “Just go…go easy.”
Freedman’s lust went on hold when he saw the fear shining in

Omar’s eyes. He would never do anything to hurt the changeling, no
matter how much his dick hurt. “I won’t hurt you, Omar, I promise.”

“Not real fond of promises.” There was a wealth of emotion

behind those words, but Omar hid it quickly as he dropped his eyes.
“Too many people make them and never keep them.”

Freedman grabbed Omar’s chin with his unlubed hand and

brought his face up until their eyes met. “I have never made a promise
to you that I didn’t keep, and I won’t. I also won’t do this if you don’t
want it.”

Omar stared up at Freedman with his wide eyes for what seemed

like a million years. Freedman knew it had only been seconds because
his dick was still in one piece, but he was never more grateful than
when Omar nodded his head.

“I’ll go slow, Omar.”
Omar nodded again then closed his eyes. He turned his head back

to face the top of the bed and tensed every muscle in his body as if
waiting for the pain to come. Freedman’s lip curled back and he once
again wished he could get his hands on the asshole that had made his
beautiful little man afraid of sex.

Freedman refused to hurt Omar and with him this scared, Omar

would feel nothing but pain if Freedman tried to breach him at this
point. But all was not lost. There was a whole lot of body for

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Freedman to explore before he got to the good stuff. Freedman
brushed back a strand of dark-blond hair from Omar’s temple before
kissing him there. He skimmed his lips along the nape of Omar’s neck
then down to his lips, blazing a trail across Omar’s silken skin.

Omar’s deep moan was music to his hears. Freedman smiled as he

nuzzled at the changeling’s throat before kissing another trail down
the curve of Omar’s back. His time in captivity had been bad, even
Freedman knew that, but it hadn’t drawn away from how incredibly
gorgeous Omar was. Freedman just couldn’t believe he was allowed
to touch after all of this time of wanting him.

Freedman’s balls started to ache when the tremor of arousal began

to shake Omar’s slighter form. His body tingled with the need to
come, but he refused to without Omar’s pleasure coming first. That
just meant one thing. He needed to up his game.

Freedman heard a high strangled cry fill the room when he leaned

down and swirled his tongue around Omar’s puckered hole. He
grinned for a moment then gave the tight opening a long lick. He
speared his tongue just inside, along with his index finger. He thrust it
in again and again, adding a second one when he thought Omar could
take it.

Freedman tongue-fucked Omar over and over, then alternated

with a finger and finally two. He moved his fingers in a steady
rhythm, making sure to nail Omar’s gland as often as he could, until
the changeling seemed to be barely hanging on the edge.

Freedman scooted between Omar’s legs and positioned the head

of his cock at the changeling’s entrance and slowly fucked his way in,
stretching Omar’s tight ring of muscles around his thick girth inch by
glorious inch. Tremors started to shake his body before he even got in
all of the way. This was going to be the shortest sex scene in
history…like milliseconds.

“God, Omar, you feel so fucking good.”
“Glad…” A small shudder wove its way through Omar’s body.

“Glad you approve.”

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Hell yeah he approved. He had been fantasizing about fucking

Omar’s little ass since the day he met the man. His fantasies were just
never this good.

Freedman started to move, as slowly as his body would allow him

to, thrusting his hips forward then pulling back until just the head of
his cock remained gripped in Omar’s tight hole. Little by little, as
Omar’s body seemed to start sucking him in, Freedman began moving
faster.

Until he backed up once and felt a slick finger drive into his ass.
Freedman grasped and held on as his ring of muscle squeezed

down on the invasion. He almost couldn’t breathe through the
pleasure that raced through him as Salvador stretched him. He pushed
out, grinding into the thrusts to take Salvador’s fingers deeper, then
drove his hips forward, sinking into Omar.

How had he missed out on a threesome before? It was the perfect

way to have sex, the only way…with him sandwiched in the middle.

“Salvador.” Freedman wasn’t begging, not exactly. He was just

highly suggesting that the damn vampire hurry the hell up, or the
show would be over before Freedman got fucked into the mattress. He
could already feel a small tingle at the base of his cock and he knew
he didn’t have long before he blew. He was kind of hoping to take his
mates with him.

The head of Salvador’s thick cock suddenly pushed between

Freedman’s ass cheeks and popped inside. They both froze at the
pleasurable sensation. Freedman loved the feeling of Salvador’s rigid
length buried inside his sweat-slick body. It was just as good as
feeling his own cock buried inside of Omar.

“Now, my love,” Salvador whispered into Freedman’s ear.
Freedman began to pump slowly in and out of Omar. He could

feel Omar’s tight channel contract around his cock with almost brutal
intensity. Freedman’s hand moved under Omar to skim his stomach
and chest. He stroked down between their bodies, tracing his fingers
over Omar’s hard shaft.

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Freedman’s fingers gripped Omar’s cock, and with one strong

stroke, he felt the warmth slide over his fingers as Omar came, his ass
clenching and milking Freedman in the most sensual way he had ever
encountered.

Freedman moaned as the long thick cock that seemed to fill him

so perfectly brushed across his prostate with every thrust of
Salvador’s hips. He groaned as Salvador’s angle altered and his sweet
spot was struck again and again.

His thrusts began to falter as he neared orgasm. He rammed his

cock harder and harder into Omar, rocking the bed with the force of
his thrusts. He swelled inside Omar, stuffing his ass full as he came
on a bone-deep groan. He buried his face into Omar’s shoulder,
smelling his sweet scent, and feeling Omar’s slick skin against his
own chest.

The vampire behind him hissed and then clasped Freedman’s

shoulders from underneath and began to lift and lower him, impaling
him as his thrusts suddenly increased in their intensity. Freedman was
fully aware of the hardness of Salvador’s thighs brushing against his
as the man pounded into him. He was even more aware of the fangs
that scraped along his throat.

Honestly, in that second, with Salvador buried in his ass and his

cock buried in Omar’s ass, Freedman wouldn’t have cared if the
vampire drank from him.

“Thank you, my love.”
Freedman cried out as liquid fire exploded throughout his entire

body when Salvador’s fangs pierced his neck. The pleasure induced
from the bite was so exquisite that dark spots danced in front of
Freedman’s eyes as he came a second time, filling Omar’s ass until it
overflowed and trickled down his thighs.

The deep guttural roar that rumbled through Salvador’s chest was

the only warning Freedman got before the vampire’s cock slammed
into him and scorching hot liquid flooded his ass, burning Freedman
in a sensual wave that made his entire body tremble.

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Chapter Thirteen

“Is that all you have?” Miguel challenged as he stood in the

backyard. “My dead cat can hit harder than you.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes, pulled back his muzzle, and charged

Miguel. The changeling moved so fast that Dorian hit air and fell on
his face.

“Guns are fine, Dorian. But there are going to be times when teeth

and claws are needed. Get up and show me you know how to take an
enemy down.”

Temper flaring, Dorian sprung from the ground and went after

Miguel again. This time he anticipated what the man was going to do
and changed course, tackling the guy. He clamped his teeth down on
Miguel’s throat, but didn’t use any pressure.

“Uncle!” Miguel shouted and then laughed. “About damn time.”
Dorian pushed away and stood. Miguel was in his human form,

Dorian in his werewolf form, and the man had still given Dorian a run
for his money. He had to admit, being a changeling wasn’t half bad.
He had protested from the start that he wanted to remain human. If he
hadn’t been speared to the wall, he would have.

But Dorian knew Rick had no choice. It was the only way to save

him. Thank fuck he wasn’t converted into a vampire, although he
needed to drink blood.

Dorian was still trying to get used to that. He shivered in repulsion

as Benito took Miguel’s place. He was in his human form, giving
Dorian a big, goofy grin. “Come on, juvenile. Let’s see what you got.”

Narrowing his eyes, Dorian rushed the smart-mouthed man. He

was stunned when he tackled Benito on the first attempt. But his

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victory was short lived. Benito had his claws out, pressing into
Dorian’s gut, his teeth attached to Dorian’s throat.

Fuck.
Benito eased back. “I just showed you that even though you took

me down, I can still do some pretty serious damage to you. Don’t
underestimate your enemy, Dorian. I may be a little on the short side,
but that only gives me better agility.”

Dorian wanted to knock his head into a wall. This was so damn

frustrating. He thought once he was converted, this shit would come
naturally.

It hadn’t.
Dorian had learned that even changelings needed to learn how to

use their teeth and claws. But changelings learned at a young age.
Dorian had a lot of catching up to do. Miguel and Benito had been
fighting in their shifted form for years.

Dorian hadn’t.
“Now comes the hard lesson.” Benito held his palm out, and to

Dorian’s horror, extended a claw and sliced his palm open. The
coppery scent of blood filled his lungs and Dorian almost forgot how
to breathe. He wanted to chase Benito down and eat him. He wanted
to lick the wound and then feast on the man’s soft underbelly, eating
the man’s organs.

Dorian paused in thought, feeling as if he were going to be sick at

what he had just thought, but the blood made him forget the grotesque
thought. The blood made him forget his human side.

Crouching, Dorian snapped his teeth at Benito, seeing only prey in

front of him.

“Clear your mind, gatito,” Rick instructed from the side of the

porch where he had been standing and watching the lessons. “Don’t
let the need overwhelm you. You have to learn to think past the
hunger.”

Dorian pushed from the ground with his feet and was on Benito in

seconds, taking the man down and biting at his hand. Strong arms

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wrapped around him, pulling him away, but Dorian struggled to get
free, to taste, to bite, and to eat that which bled.

Rick pulled Dorian further away, his strength unparalleled. Dorian

couldn’t break the hold and Rick looked as if he wasn’t breaking a
sweat as he held a wrestling werewolf changeling.

“You’re still becoming accustomed to this life, Dorian. You’ll

learn. Sometimes it’s still hard even for an alpha to resist the scent of
blood.”

Dorian wasn’t listening. He was gnashing his jaws and still trying

to get to Benito.

“I think you need to seal that wound,” Rick advised, “before

Dorian eats you.”

“Sure, now he learns how to attack.” Benito rolled his eyes as he

licked at his hand.

Dorian whimpered.
Rick chuckled. “Take a deep breath, gatito. The lingering scent is

almost gone.”

It was true. Dorian’s mouth was no longer watering and the urge

to eat Benito was fading. Okay, this part of being changeling was not
cool in the least. Dorian shivered thinking about eating the man. It
was gross as hell.

“Trust me,” Rick said as he pressed his lips to Dorian’s ear. “It

may seem gross, but once you taste the blood for the first time…” He
trailed off, leaving the details to Dorian’s imagination.

“I don’t want to eat anyone,” he admitted.
“We never do.” Rick released him, taking a step back. “Shift so

we can get ready to head out.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes at Rick. The man was messing with

him. Rick knew damn well Dorian was not going to be naked in front
of Miguel and Benito.

“Prude,” Rick teased as Dorian made his way into the house to get

dressed. As Dorian walked through the door, he flipped Rick off over
his shoulder.

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Rick laughed harder.
Dorian not only made it to their bedroom and shifted, but he

dressed and then made sure he gathered their belongings so they could
get going. He was nervous as hell to be heading to one of Sellers’s
labs. True, the place wasn’t a detention center, but there were
experiments going on. That made the lab an ominous place.

As he set the duffel bags on the bed, Dorian felt that niggling

inside of him. That feeling that had started to take root ever since he
his encounter with the Death Squad at the first detention center. He
still felt like a coward, even though he was a changeling now.

And that shocked him. Dorian would have thought the feeling

would have gone away by now, but it hadn’t. He also had put off
thinking about what was going on with him now. He didn’t know the
wolf inside of him, and now he was one of the hunted.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dorian ran his hand down his face.

Realization dawned on him that he was fine with fighting next to
Rick, as a human, because he knew he was human. Now that he was
changeling, a suffocating feeling began to settle in his chest. He was a
part of a hunted species now.

His stomach knotted.
This was how changelings felt. This was how his Rebellion group

felt. Dorian was terrified someone would check his blood and find out
he wasn’t human. He was terrified of being hauled off and
experimented on.

How in the fuck could the changelings live like this?
“Panic was not something I expected so soon,” Rick said as he

leaned against the doorframe. “The scent is thick in the air.”

Dorian glanced at his mate and knew beyond doubt that he would

die to protect the man. Enrique Marcelo had picked up the torch and
led the way to a Rebellion that was soon going to spill on the front
steps of the White House. “How can you be so…brave in all of this?”
Dorian asked. “Why did you agree to lead the uprising? You could

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have just taken off and went into hiding. How can you smile or laugh
when you know humans are hunting you down?”

Rick moved into the room and took a seat next to Dorian. His

light-grey eyes held years of wisdom Dorian had never noticed
before.

“You’re feeling that fear inside of you about being changeling and

hunted down, aren’t you?”

Dorian felt like crap for admitting the truth, since Rick had been

changeling his entire life and was very familiar with this hunted
feeling. “Yeah.”

“Remember that feeling, Dorian. That fear is what makes us fight.

Humans aren’t afraid of leaving their home or going to work. I want
that same privilege. I want to be able to walk from the grocery store to
my car without wondering if someone discovered I’m changeling and
has their sight trained at my head from a distance, ready to take me
out just for being different. The color of our skin, the species that we
are, or gender—none of those should matter when it comes to judging
a person’s character. Being different is what makes us all unique.”

“Or hunted.”
Rick nodded. “Or hunted.”
“Ever since I couldn’t protect Trisha and Peanut, I’ve felt like a

damn coward.”

Rick slid an arm around Dorian’s shoulder, pulling him close to

Rick’s warm and strong chest. “I know.”

“You’re not going to give me a speech about that?” Dorian asked.
“We’ve already talked about it, gatito.”
Yeah, they had.
Dorian sighed. “We need to get going.”
Rick leaned down and kissed Dorian’s temple before turning and

grabbing a duffle bag. “Let’s start packing the trucks.”

Dorian watched Rick leave the room and wished he had half the

man’s courage. He wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. Not in the least.
Dorian was just recognizing his strengths and weaknesses.

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Grabbing the other duffle bag, he walked from the bedroom and

closed the door behind him.

* * * *

Omar glanced at the bed Salvador was fast asleep on. “I don’t feel

right leaving him here. What if someone breaks in and opens the
curtains?” Omar felt his skin flush when he thought about the sex he
had just had with these two gorgeous men. He couldn’t believe he had
gone through with it.

His parents would be mortified if they ever found out Omar had

had what amounted to an orgy in their eyes—and with a human and a
vampire. They would probably disown Omar.

Did he honestly care?
No.
Was he feeling the morning-after awkwardness?
Yes.
Being with Freedman and Salvador was actually a little liberating.

It was as if the blanket of parental control had been lifted off of him
and tossed aside. His parents weren’t around to dictate to him how his
life should go or what he needed to accomplish in order to be not only
socially accepted, but a winning scholar.

He almost felt giddy with his liberation.
Omar hated being an intellectual.
He hadn’t wanted to go to those boring parties. He had wanted to

hang out and have fun, something any young twenty-year-old would
want to do. Omar had wanted to shrug off his responsibilities and
boogey his butt off at some damn nightclub, not attend all those
tedious, mind-numbing functions and listen to the people around him
brag about what they had accomplished or what they had planned to
accomplish.

He hadn’t given a rat’s ass about any of that.

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“I secured the curtains so they are hard to pull apart, and I set

traps throughout this house just in case someone does break in.”

Omar snapped his head up, forgetting that Freedman was even

there. “What about the owners? You can’t booby-trap their house.”

“It’s nothing lethal,” Freedman reassured him. “But I had a choice

to make. Keep Salvador safe or render whoever walked inside the
house helpless.” Freedman shrugged. “I choose Salvador.”

Omar wanted to argue the ethics of hurting the people helping

them, but knew Freedman was right. If there was a choice to be made,
Salvador came first. He still didn’t like it though. Freedman headed
toward the bedroom door and Omar followed. He gave one last glance
to Salvador’s sleeping form and then stepped out into the hallway.

Freedman closed the bedroom door, and then fixed a thin wire

around the frame of the door and then over the handle. The wire was
so thin that it was transparent. “What is that for?”

“It’s a little gift just in case anyone gets past the other traps.

They’ll wish they stayed at home if they open this door.”

Omar frowned. “What if it’s Salvador who opens the door?”
Freedman grinned at him, and the smile was filled with a

mischievousness that made Omar’s stomach knot. “Then he’ll be paid
back for poking around in my head uninvited.”

“You can’t do that,” Omar said heatedly.
“I’m just kidding,” Freedman said. “I left Salvador a note and told

him to go out the bedroom window if he didn’t want to be knocked
out cold.”

“Oh.”
“Come on, everyone is probably waiting on us.”
Omar glanced at the door and had an urge to open it just to see

what would happen. Deciding that wasn’t the best idea, he pivoted
around and then remembered that Freedman had said he booby-
trapped the house. He was afraid to take a step.

“I’ll walk you through the house,” Freedman said and surprised

Omar by grabbing his hand and leading the way. Before Omar’s

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capture, Freedman had been this tough-as-nails soldier who was quiet
and deadly.

This was a side he never thought the man possessed.
Once they navigated through the house and made it downstairs,

Freedman walked them to the truck.

“Ready?” Rick asked.
Omar stood there and watched the playfulness bleed from

Freedman’s eyes, replaced with the hard-ass soldier Omar
remembered. Freedman gave Rick an inflexible glint and a short nod
of the head, his jaw tight. “The trap is set and we’re ready to go.”

Boy, talk about a one-eighty turn.
Omar shook his head as he crawled into the truck. He wasn’t

going to try and figure the man out. He had enough going on inside
his own noggin—like trying to figure out just how many breeds he
had camped out inside of him.

Omar’s head snapped up when Rick shoved Dorian into the truck

and slammed the door closed. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but
Dorian’s eyes were glowing. Looking over his shoulder, Omar saw a
car pull into the driveway.

Nobody should know the Rebellion group was there.
The driver’s door opened and Corrigan got out, glancing at the

group. Omar slipped from the truck. He hadn’t seen the guy since the
rescue on the first detention center. Why was he here and how did he
know where they were?

“Corrigan?” Freedman said. “How did you know we were here?”
Omar’s balls clenched when he saw the look in Corrigan’s eyes.

This was not going to be good.

“They killed Jordison.”
“How?” Freedman asked. “What happened?” He began to walk

toward Corrigan, but Omar grabbed Freedman’s arm and pulled him
back.

“Something isn’t right,” Omar whispered. Corrigan’s body

language was all wrong. The man had just lost a good friend of his,

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129

yet in Omar’s opinion, the guy didn’t seem too distraught. He had
stated Jordison’s death a little casually.

Either the man was numb, or a very bad actor. Omar had a feeling

Corrigan wasn’t numb. “What did you do?” Omar asked, placing
himself in front of Freedman. There was something in the man’s eyes,
something unsaid.

“What do you mean?” Corrigan asked, sounding offended. “They

killed Jordison!”

“Who is they?” Rick asked, moving toward the door of the truck

where Dorian was sitting. Omar was glad no one looked at him like
he was crazy for not believing the man. He wouldn’t have been able
to explain how he knew. It was just a gut feeling.

“Mercenaries!” Corrigan shouted. “They tortured him for weeks!”
The hairs on the back of his neck stood. If Jordison was tortured

for weeks, why didn’t Corrigan look roughed up? Why hadn’t he
contacted Freedman before this? And how did the man know where
they were? Omar looked around and lost all the air in his lungs when
mercenaries came walking out from between houses, from the cover
of the graveyard, and trucks began to pull down the street, blocking
them in.

There were so many of them that Omar knew they weren’t going

to escape.

“You betrayed us?” Freedman asked with a mixture of

astonishment and rage. “How the fuck could you do something like
that? I thought we were friends. I thought you hated what the
government was doing just as much as we did?”

Corrigan curled his lip. “But hating what the government is doing

doesn’t pay the bills.”

Everything happened at once.
Benito pulled his gun from the holster around his shoulder and

shot Corrigan between the eyes. The mercenaries shot over their
heads in warning, and a van pulled in front of the house. Omar was
readying to fight—even though he wasn’t the best fighter, but one of

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the mercenaries snuck up and grabbed Selene, holding a gun to her
head.

“Get in the van, all of you,” the man said as he pulled Selene

away from the Rebellion group. “Or I’m going to paint the sidewalk
with her brains.” The man licked the side of Selene’s face, pressing
the gun harder into her temple when Selene elbowed him with a
growl. “Or maybe I’ll take her inside and have fun with her.”

“Be very careful of what you say,” Sasha said as he stepped

forward. “And be damn careful of what you do. Trust me, I will find
you when we get free, and I’m going to slice you open and let the
changelings eat your fucking entrails.”

The man laughed. “You aren’t getting free, cat. You’re going to

the detention center.”

Omar gasped as so many guns were pointed at them that he knew

they were fucked. And so was he when Dr. Formente got ahold of
him. The scientist was probably steaming mad his project escaped.

There was a distinct sound of a shotgun being pumped. He turned

to see one of the mercenaries moving just a little closer. “Get out of
the truck.”

Rick spun, growling low. “Stay away from him.”
The changeling raised the shotgun and aimed it at Miguel.

“Everyone, in the van, now!”

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Chapter Fourteen

Rick could not believe that after all this time they were caught. He

had to find a way out of this. Dying in the detention center was not
something he was going to do. Letting any of his Rebellion group die
in here wasn’t an option either.

He just currently had no clue how to get them out of this fucked-

up situation. The van was driving past a guards’ station, heading
straight for the place. He knew they should have come back and
blown this place sky-high. Rick had planned on doing just that after
they hit the labs.

It looked like someone was rearranging his schedule. Glancing

over at Dorian, Rick prayed his mate didn’t shift. Dorian seemed to be
holding it together pretty well, but he could see the fear in the man’s
Peruvian-brown eyes.

Every captive in the van held fear in their eyes, even Sasha. They

had all either seen or heard of the horrors that took place in the
detention centers. Omar had lived through it—was still living through
it with the multiple breeds coming out of the guy.

The entire van sat in silence as they rode to an underground

parking lot. Selene had been separated from them. Rick knew they
were using her as insurance to keep them in line. Nate and Sasha had
murder in their eyes as they watched the van pull into what looked
like some kind of holding cell.

Rick had seen his top enforcer in a lethal mode plenty of times.

Nate was an enforcer and was damn good at his job. But this was the
first time he saw the man’s jade-green eyes so dark they were almost
black. The guy was brewing inside a silent rage. Sasha’s kelly-green

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eyes were the same, dark orbs that looked as if the man were going to
shift into a demon.

“You’ll have plenty of guns trained on you. I would suggest you

not try anything heroic, or stupid,” the driver said as the brakes
squeaked and the van came to a stop.

They had been relieved of their weapons back at the safe house,

but Rick still had his claws and teeth. The first opportunity that
presented itself, he was tearing someone’s fucking throat out.

“They like to fuck with your head and beat the shit out of you in

this place,” Omar whispered as he stared down at his hands. “Trust
me, if they get the chance, two or three of them will use any of you as
a punching bag.”

Rick would really like to see them try. He may have cooperated

because he didn’t want Selene hurt, but he was nobody’s punching
bag.

They sat in the van for the longest time after the driver had gotten

out. Rick wasn’t sure what was going on.

“How are you holding up?” Rick whispered to Dorian. His mate

was sitting next to him, sweating, fighting the change. Still, some
parts were succeeding. Dorian’s claws were out and his eyes were
glowing, but he hadn’t sprouted hair or shifted. Rick could sense his
mate was on the edge, tugging at a fine line as he fought his
werewolf, stopping the beast from getting free.

“It’s taking everything in me not to shift,” Dorian confessed. “It

hurts to stop my werewolf.”

Rick knew that feeling, had been there plenty of times. There was

no advice he could give that would help. He had never figured out
what to do when he had felt that way. Reaching over, Rick slid his
hand under Dorian’s and then entwined their fingers together before
leaning and kissing his mate’s temple. “Just stay alive, gatito.”

Dorian nodded as the back doors opened. No one was standing

there, which told Rick whoever opened them hauled ass already.

“Step out of the van,” a disembodied voice said.

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133

They all sat there, staring into the cage they would be standing in.
“Step out of the van or your friend will pay the price.”
Rick felt his temper flare when he heard Selene cry out. She was

an enforcer. Rick knew it took a lot to make her give in to pain.

Nate was out of the van, howling and snapping his teeth as he

slammed his hands into the cage. “Hurt her and I’ll eat every last one
of you sorry son of a bitches!”

Sasha was next to climb out, his eyes scanning all around, his jaw

set in a grim line.

“I highly doubt you are in a position to make any kind of threat,

animal.”

“Wanna bet?” Nate said as he slammed one hand into the metal. It

didn’t budge. The cage seemed to be reinforced just for changeling
strength.

“Come now,” the disembodied voice said. “Show yourself,

Enrique Marcelo. I want to see the famous werewolf changeling who
has defied all odds and has led a nation of Rebellions.”

Dorian squeezed his hand tightly. “Don’t go.”
Before Rick could say a word, Miguel climbed from the van,

standing to his full height with a stone face. Rick had never seen the
changeling look so fierce, so proud. He had been right when he saw
an alpha in the young enforcer. Miguel may joke and kid around a lot,
but there was an underlying strength that was developing. When this
war was over, Rick was going to have to take the man under his
wings. A budding alpha shouldn’t be left untrained.

“You are not Enrique. I’ve seen his face in the papers,” the voice

replied with a snap.

Rick cupped Dorian’s face, giving him a passionate kiss. It was

filled with all the love he felt for his mate and the promise that they
would make it out of this alive. He released the man and stepped from
the van.

Rick’s heart was beating hard in his chest as he revealed himself.

He may be an alpha, and he may be leading an uprising, but it was

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still some scary shit to walk out into the unknown. He was the most
highly sought man in America, and his enemies had finally captured
him. There was no telling what they had planned for him.

But Rick did know that keeping him alive was not in their plans.
“Impressive,” the voice said.
“Come inside the cage and I will show you just how impressive I

truly am,” Rick said with a steel tone, surveying the area. There was
nothing around them except the cage. There were no parked cars.
There was no storage sitting off to the side. The place was made of
concrete and was well lit, but nothing was in the underground parking
area except them.

It seemed these people weren’t taking any chances with Rick and

his group.

“How about you come out to me?” the male voice asked. “I would

really love to pick your brain…apart.”

A chill ran down Rick’s spine. The man meant it. Rick didn’t say

another word as Benito, Freedman, Dorian, and then Omar climbed
out of the van.

“Ah, we have a returning guest.”
“Fuck you, Dr. Formente.”
Rick snapped his head around, recognizing that name. Samuel

Formente. He was the Breed Hunter whose truck they had stolen
behind a small post office. The man was a college professor who
taught bioengineering and had worked at the college in Georgia that
had been bombed.

“Do you still have my truck or did you destroy it?” the man asked

from overhead speakers, the anger clear in his voice.

No one said a word.
Rick wanted to pull his mate into his arms to give them both the

reassurance they needed, but Rick wasn’t foolish enough to give this
man cannon fodder. If they didn’t know Dorian was his mate, he
wasn’t going to clue them in.

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Dorian seemed to have the same idea, because he was standing on

the opposite side of the cage as him. Thankfully his mate’s claws had
retracted, but his eyes still glowed the Peruvian-brown Rick loved so
much, which was injected with flecks of yellow.

The distinct sound of hard-soled shoes could be heard echoing

around them. Someone was coming, approaching them. Rick stood
there and waited. He could see Freedman inching closer to Omar.

Rick had the same urge for Dorian, but stayed rooted to the spot,

but he could feel his mate wanting to get close to him. Rick could
scent Dorian’s anxiety. He ground his molars together. His mate
needed him, and all Rick could do was stand there.

A man appeared from the shadowed corner of the underground.

Rick recognized him from his driver’s license. The driver’s license
that had been stuffed in a wallet that was still in the truck they had
stolen.

This was Samuel Formente.
Somehow Rick had pictured this man taller, but he stood shorter

than Rick. His chestnut-brown hair was stylishly cut, and he wore a
white lab coat over dress pants and a button-down shirt that looked as
if it had cost a nice penny. The guy was wearing highly polished dress
shoes, the kind that were handmade.

Samuel Formente liked dressing to impress. The expensive outfit

and well-placed creases in his pants spoke volumes of the man
wearing the suit and buffed-to-a-shine shoes.

“I am going to be famous for capturing Enrique Marcelo and his

mate,” Formente said as his eyes slid over to Dorian. “Along with his
Rebellion group.”

Rick didn’t threaten the man to stay away from Dorian. He knew

it would do no good and he would only show this man a sign of
weakness. If Rick ever needed his strength, it was now. Dorian stood
taller, his chin jutted out in defiance.

Formente tucked his hands behind his back. “Now, all of you will

allow my guards to shackle you without resistance.”

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“Like hell,” Benito growled.
Dorian collapsed. Rick hurried over to him, kneeling over his

mate to see a dart protruding from his neck. His head snapped up.
“What the fuck have you done to him?”

A malicious grin formed on Formente’s face. “He has been

injected with a toxin. Unless I give him the antidote, he will die. But
saving him will be entirely up to you men. Cooperate and you have
nothing to worry about.”

Guards began to fill the underground parking garage, some with

guns in their hands, others with steel shackles. Rick knew he would
comply. Dorian’s life was at stake. Although he was getting really
fucking sick and tired of his mate being attacked.

The man had just recovered from being gutted.
“Step away from the door,” Formente instructed with a command

that brooked no argument.

Everyone eased away as one of the guards unlocked the door.

Enough guns to take down an entire army were immediately trained
on them. The human eased into the cage, his eyes snapping at each
member of the Rebellion group as he shackled Rick first.

Smart man.
They were neutralizing the leader in order to make the rest quietly

comply. Rick wouldn’t have resisted. Dorian’s life depended on them
all cooperating. Too bad Kraven hadn’t waited until now to send his
Mãos da Morte. The distraction might have given them an advantage.

One by one, the group was shackled. They even shackled Dorian’s

prone body.

“Now give him the antidote,” Rick said with a snarl.
The man chuckled. “He was merely given a mild sedative. He

should be coming around very soon.”

“That better be all you gave him.”
Formente shook his head, a spark of something indistinguishable

in his eyes. “Your group is very aggressive. I have the upper hand, yet

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you men continue to threaten me as if you can come through on your
promise. That is very interesting.”

Rick’s head turned when Dorian began to moan. His mate reached

for his head, but stilled and opened his eyes, staring at the thick metal
cuffs around his wrists.

Formente turned on his heel and strode away without saying

another word. With military precision, some of the guards pivoted and
strode away as well.

“Move out,” the guard standing by the cage door said.
Rick walked from the cage first, but stopped, waiting for his mate.
The guard pushed at his back. “Get moving.”
Rick’s canines lengthened and then he snapped his jaws at the

guard. “Be very careful when coming near me. I really, really like to
bite.”

The guard’s eyes grew slightly round at Rick’s words.
A smile tilted the side of Rick’s mouth. “Why don’t you bleed for

me so that I can taste your vital organs?”

Something hard and metal was pushed into the back of Rick’s

head. “Shut the fuck up and get moving.”

Rick gazed at the guard who had shoved him and licked his lips as

his eyes began to glow. “I can smell your fear and it’s giving me a
fucking hard-on,” he said before walking away.

Rick chuckled maliciously when he smelled the distinct scent of

urine.

“You like playing head games?” the guard asked in a tone that

was filled with anger.

“No,” Rick replied.
The guard moved in closer, forcing Rick to stop. “Yes, you do.

But I can play head games just as well.” The guard turned. “Bring me
this animal’s filthy mate.”

Rick spun, but a shotgun barrel was pressed on both of his cheeks.

The two guards were looking at him with a bright gleam in their eyes,

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begging wordlessly for Rick to give them an excuse to blow his head
off.

It took two guards to haul Dorian forward. His mate wasn’t going

without a fight.

The guard who had been speaking to him smiled as his tongue

traced his bottom lip. “Watch this, Enrique.” He took a step back,
walked over to Dorian, and then Rick watched in utter terror and rage
as the two guards holding Dorian forced his mate to his knees. The
guard threatening Rick palmed his groin, moving his crotch close to
Dorian’s face. “I’ll make you watch as this fucking animal sucks my
dick.”

The inside of Rick’s body filled with red-hot rage, singeing his

veins as he felt his werewolf nearly bursting free. He took one step
forward, the shotguns still trained on his face. “Touch him and there
will be nothing on this earth that will save you from what my animal
will do to you. Trust me, I can hunt you down and I will ever so
slowly eat every inch of your flesh while you are still alive and
screaming.”

The guard’s eyes dulled for a second and Rick scented the man’s

fear. It grew thick in the air and then began to dissipate. The guard
moved closer to Dorian, taunting Rick as if Rick couldn’t make good
on his threat.

The guard was a dead man and was too stupid to realize this fact.
“What is taking so long?” Formente asked as he stepped back

through a door at the far side of the underground parking lot. His eyes
snapped to Dorian on his knees. “I did not tell you to harm them.
Bring them to my fucking lab, you goddamn idiot.”

Everyone glanced around when a slight tremor rocked the floor

beneath them. The doors on the back of the van that had been opened
swayed, and then lights dimmed.

“What the hell was that?” one of the guards asked.
Omar smiled as he locked eyes with Formente and then spoke in a

low, singsong voice, “Salvador is here.”

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Chapter Fifteen

Salvador Santos Almeida walked down the dirt road toward the

detention center, his coven following behind him. He had summoned
them when he realized his mates were here in America. His coven
was loyal, strong, and revered Salvador. They were also very deadly.
Salvador’s coven was comprised of nothing but born vampires. None
among them were turned. Not one of his members was as strong as
Salvador, but united, they would destroy this place and leave nothing
behind but ash and ruins.

“Stop right there!” a human in a military uniform shouted as he

ran from a small shack. It was the guard hut that stopped all vehicles
for inspection before entering the detention center.

Salvador raised his arms and then threw them forward. The entire

shack exploded, killing the guard. He could hear dogs barking and
whining in the distance, and the level of activity near the high wall
increased tenfold.

Salvador began to walk forward again.
Funnels of dust formed as the air around him swirled and gained

speed, spiraling toward the building. A tank slowly turned, the large
barrel aimed at him and his coven. Salvador raised his arms once
more, and the tank began to turn toward the center instead.

But Salvador didn’t allow it to fire. There were people inside he

didn’t want hurt.

Men and women began shouting.
Gunfire ran out in the night.
Dogs were barking loudly.

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Salvador pointed to his right and the coven members to his right

dispatched, racing toward the wall and then began to scale the height
with nothing more than their hands and feet as leverage.

The Shadow moved in beside Salvador, combining their strength

as the large thick, steel doors leading into the center groaned and
buckled. Then the doors gave and began to open.

“Stop him!” someone shouted.
Salvador pointed to his left, and the remaining coven members

raced to Salvador’s left, scaling the walls and taking out the guards
who had been walking around the upper perimeter.

The vampires fighting were unparalleled. They didn’t need

weapons. They had skills that had been honed to perfection for
hundreds of years.

If these humans wanted a war, it was a war they were going to get.

No one took Salvador’s mates and then lived.

The humans just better pray to their god that no harm had befallen

Omar or Freedman.

Before crossing the threshold, Salvador turned, glanced at the

helicopters high above, and then swooshed his hand through the air.

The helicopters began to descend at a rapid rate and then crashed

into the land behind the center.

He felt a shove of power. The Shadow had given Salvador a part

of himself so that Salvador didn’t collapse from the power he was
exerting. He knew he was going to have to feed or he would never
make it out of here on his feet.

The left side of Salvador’s body jerked when a bullet slammed

into his shoulder.

The Shadow was gone in seconds, killing the one who had shot

Salvador. There was a low gurgling sound and then the human was
dead. Salvador narrowed his eyes when he saw soldiers heading his
way.

His rage surged through him knowing these men had taken his

mates. He wanted them back. Salvador had suffered enough in his

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life, and he wasn’t going to allow these humans to keep him from the
two bright points in his life.

Salvador slashed his arm through the air, the soldiers dropped to

their knees, grabbing their heads. Salvador moved closer until he
knew he was in earshot. “Give me my mates back!”

“W–Who are your mates?” one of the soldiers asked as blood

began to trickle from his nose, the veins in the white of his eyes
darkening.

Salvador yanked the man’s head by his hair and stared deep down

into his unfocused eyes, making sure the human knew he wasn’t
accepting any excuses. “Where are the men you brought here? Where
is Enrique Marcelo?”

The man’s eyes lowered to slits. “Fuck you. I’m going to make

sure everyone knows that we were the ones to catch the most wanted
man in America.”

Salvador leaned down, baring his fangs. “Dead men can’t talk,” he

said before sinking his fangs into the man’s neck, draining him dry.
He tossed the body aside and looked at the other men. “Give me my
mates back or I will make your fucking heads explode.”

When not one man said a word, Salvador cocked his head to the

side, gazing each one of them in their eyes. The whole unit screamed,
falling over, blood oozing out of their eyes and ears, and then they
moved no longer.

Salvador stepped over the dead bodies as he charged toward the

main door, his shoulders set forward and his jaw locked. He followed
the call of Freedman’s blood, stepping inside the door.

A soldier shot at him.
Salvador lifted his arms and made a slice through the air. The

soldier hit the wall, his head cracking, and then he fell to the floor
lifeless.

“Who are your mates?”
Salvador spun around, feeling the pain of separation as if someone

had reached into his chest and was ripping his soul from his very

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body. “Where is Enrique?” He knew Freedman and Omar would be
with Enrique.

Not only was he going to free his mates, but the Rebellion group

as well. All changelings were going to get out of here, and then the
humans and this building were going to burn to the ground.

Again, no one took his mates away from him.
Salvador began to slowly walk toward the man, cocking his head

to the side. He pushed into the man’s head, sifting through the
human’s memories until he found the one he wanted.

“You dare threaten such horrendous acts against Dorian?”

Salvador liked Dorian. The small man had been ready to die before
giving up Enrique’s location. The little warrior had not only intrigued
Salvador, but had a spine of steel. Dorian had gained Salvador’s
respect from the simple fact he wouldn’t betray his mate. It was very
hard to impress Salvador, but the man had done it without any deceit,
just being who he was.

“I don’t even know a Dorian,” the guard replied as he backed

away and then spun around, fleeing.

Salvador grabbed the human’s mind, yanking on it and taking

control. The soldier slowly pulled his firearm from its holster, pointed
it to his head, and took his life.

“Your punishment was too light,” Salvador said as he walked past

the lump on the floor. He now knew his mates were in the
underground parking garage, shackled, and being marched toward the
corridor leading to the labs.

Salvador summoned his coven as he headed toward his mates.

They gathered behind him within minutes. But Salvador was growing
weak. He had expended too much energy. He could feel weariness
settling into his bones as his head began to pound painfully.

“We will finish this for you, Master Salvador,” one of his coven

members said. “You need nourishment and rest.”

Salvador shook his head, feeling a deep pain settling inside in his

chest. He wanted his mates. He couldn’t feed or rest until he knew the

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two were safe. Although they had just claimed one another, it felt as if
he had known them his entire life. Now that they weren’t by his side,
but in harm’s way, Salvador felt the large, gaping hole where his heart
was.

“My mates first,” he said as he approached the door leading to the

parking garage.

“Yes, My Lord.”
“As soon as I have secured them, feed from every human in here

and then burn this place until only ashes are left behind.”

The vampire gave a slight bow.
Salvador pushed his hand out in front of him and the door

exploded from its hinges. He stepped through the opening.

* * * *

Freedman’s head snapped up, his chest tightening when he saw

Salvador with a slew of men standing behind him. His mate looked
like the angel of darkness as he stood there, glancing at each man in
the garage.

The vampire spread his arms wide. “Come to me, my mates.”
Freedman grabbed Omar’s hand and headed toward Salvador. A

soldier was stupid enough to block their path. “I wouldn’t do that if I
were you,” Freedman said as he waited for the man to move aside.
“You are dealing with a very pissed-off ancient vampire. He doesn’t
play nice with others.”

The guard glanced at Freedman, doubt creeping into his eyes.

After a long pause, he stepped aside.

“Good choice,” Freedman said as he walked over to Salvador.

“What’s our escape plan?”

Freedman was expecting the vampire to explain what was going

on. Instead, he grabbed Freedman and sank into his mouth. The kiss
was filled with passion and fire. Freedman was a bit dizzy when

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Salvador released him and then grabbed Omar, possessing the smaller
man just the same.

Salvador glanced at them both and Freedman could not only see

the weariness in the man’s eyes, but the worry. The man had been
afraid that something had happened to his mates. “Did any harm come
to either of you?” Salvador asked. “Were you hurt?”

They both shook their head no, but Freedman could feel his face

heat up. He was not used to public displays of affection. That was not
him. But it seemed to be Salvador because the man grabbed Freedman
again, giving him a playful smile. “Your skin is so beautiful when it is
a bright shade of pink. My warrior is not used to such open
affections.” It was a statement.

“Well…” Freedman glanced at the Rebellion group and then back

at Salvador, feeling the embarrassed flush grow deeper. “No.”

“Great reunion,” Rick said, “but we need to haul ass.”
“You are not going anywhere!” Formente shouted, his control

slipping as his expression became frantic. He was about to lose not
only the honor of saying he caught the infamous Enrique Marcelo, but
his tests subjects as well.

“Stop us,” Rick said with a low growl as he grabbed Dorian,

pushed his mate behind him, and then dispatched justice on the two
guards who had held the man down. It was quick and bloody, claws
and teeth.

“Animals!” Formente shouted.
Freedman watched as Omar walked over to Formente and shifted.

Okay, Freedman wasn’t expecting his smaller mate to turn into a
jaguar, but whatever worked for the guy. Omar stood there, a stunned
look in his eyes.

“But–But you are a werewolf,” Formente said, his eyes growing

wide as he stared at Omar and then they glazed over with a
calculating look. As if he wanted to take Omar back to the lab to find
out what had happened.

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As Omar attacked Formente, the other men that had come with

Salvador attacked the guards. Freedman turned his head because it
was a total bloodbath and grossing him out. He didn’t even say a
word when Salvador joined them.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Salvador wouldn’t drink

blood just because he mated a human and a changeling. The man was
a vampire. Fact was fact. But that didn’t mean he had to watch the
gory show.

“We need to see if there are any more changelings here,” Rick

said as he began to walk, the rest of the group following. Freedman
wasn’t sure if he should follow or wait on Salvador. He wanted to free
the changelings as well.

But he didn’t have to stand there long. Salvador was on his feet

and leading the way in under a minute. Freedman was tempted to ask
if the man drained a body that quickly—like he had drained the
soldier who was mind fucked and helped Omar escape—but he kept
the question to himself.

There were just some things a man really didn’t need to know.
Freedman turned, which he wished he hadn’t, and saw that not

one human had lived—not even Formente.

Rick’s group, along with the men who had accompanied Salvador,

raced through the center, freeing twelve changelings in all. Freedman
would have thought there would be more, but knew the answer in his
gut.

No others had survived.
Freedman had known from the beginning when handed the

assignment by O’Hanlon that something was off. If only he had
known how truly horrible things were going to get. It still fucked with
his head that Corrigan had turned traitor. If asked, Freedman would
have said Corrigan would have never betrayed them and that the man
was nothing but honorable and committed to this cause.

Now he knew how Rick felt when it came to backstabbing.
It hurt like a bitch.

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But what had happened to Jordison? That was what Freedman

really wanted to know.

The Rebellion group charged the labs, destroying the three rooms.

There wasn’t a damn thing left to salvage when they were finished.
This was the last remaining detention center and Freedman was going
to make sure it went down in flames.

“Are you sure we got everyone?” Dorian asked as they stood in

the destroyed room.

“Nate and Sasha found Selene in one of the cells, and then the

three searched the rest of the cells. There is no one left,” Benito said.
“I say it’s time we got the hell out of here.”

Freedman agreed. There was no telling what kind of backup might

be on its way. They had lucked out so far—seeing how Salvador and
his men had cleared their path for escape. No matter where they ran,
the hallways were empty.

Salvador downright impressed him.
But he could also see his mate was growing weary. They needed

to get out of here before Salvador was permanently harmed from all
his parlor tricks.

Just as they were heading away from the labs, Salvador appeared

at his side.

“Okay, I have to ask,” Freedman said. “Who are those men with

you?”

Salvador gave him an amusing smile. “Jealous?”
Freedman narrowed his eyes. “What the hell do you think? Now

tell me who they are.”

“They are my coven, meu destino.” Just as Salvador finished his

sentence, the coven was behind him.

It was some creepy shit.
“Move out,” Rick shouted.
As the coven, Rebellion group, and hostages fled the building, the

place began to explode. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but
Freedman hauled ass as the night sky was lit up from the fire.

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Chapter Sixteen

“How did it happen?” Captain O’Hanlon asked.
His secretary shook her head. “It was a hit and run. A full

investigation has been launched, but I’ve been told there were no
witnesses.”

“Keep me abreast. Vice Admiral Harrington was a damn good

man. I want the one responsible for this caught.” O’Hanlon glanced
back down at his desk, dismissing his secretary. The contents in the
briefcase had been destroyed, along with the person he had hired to
kill Harrington.

There was no way to link him to the death.
O’Hanlon looked up when she was still standing there. “Was there

something else?”

Mary pursed her lips. “Yes. Did you hear about the last detention

center?”

A migraine instantly seized O’Hanlon. “No.”
None of this would have started if Admiral James’s sister hadn’t

mated and then converted to an animal. O’Hanlon was satisfied
forgetting Enrique ever existed. But not only did Enrique’s mother
have to track him down, Admiral James had to make it known how
much he loathed the nonhumans.

That made O’Hanlon’s position threatened. If Admiral James ever

found out who O’Hanlon’s bastard son was, the admiral would find a
way to get rid of him. He did not work his entire life to get where he
was to lose it all.

Enrique could not be allowed to live.

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Admiral James—or any other person with political power—could

not find out about O’Hanlon’s tie with Enrique.

“The Rebellion group must have had an entire army with them

because the place is in ruins. Every human who was there has been
confirmed dead, including the helicopter pilots.”

The place had been a virtual fortress. How in the hell had

Enrique…O’Hanlon wiped his hand down his face. “Thank you,
Mary.”

This time she left.
It seemed O’Hanlon was going to have to take care of Enrique

Marcelo himself.

* * * *

Kraven glanced up at the clock. He had twenty-four hours before

the Mãos da Morte were no longer under his control.

This was unacceptable.
Kraven was not going down without a fight. He was well aware of

who and what Salvador was, and the power the ancient muerto desde
el útero possessed.

He just wasn’t sure how he was going to stop Salvador from

collecting his debt. Kraven had been racking his brain trying to figure
that out. The boogeymen would instantly leave him, and he was damn
sure Salvador would have no problem hunting him down.

There had to be a way out of this.
A thought began to form in Kraven’s mind. Oh, it was a

Machiavellian thought, but brilliant as hell. He wasn’t sure it would
work, but there was only one way to find out.

Walking into his bedroom, Kraven closed the door tightly behind

him. He turned, and let out a long, excited breath. “Darkest creatures
of the night, come forth and show yourselves.”

One by one the Mãos da Morte began to appear.

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Walking forward, Kraven reached for the strongest of the lot. The

vampire was taller and broader than the rest, his features dark and
strong. “Give me your arm.”

The vampire’s soulless eyes gazed down at Kraven, but didn’t

move.

“I said to give me your arm.” Kraven reached over and grabbed

the creature’s wrist, pulling it forward. Before the vampire could pull
away, Kraven bit into the boogeyman’s vein, drinking its blood.

The room began to spin and his head became light, but Kraven

didn’t release the limb until he was sure he had an ample supply to
work with. His heart gave a hard thump, as if he had come back to
life. But Kraven knew that to be untrue. It was just the blood coursing
through his veins. The Mãos da Morte blood began to fuse with his,
giving Kraven a heightened sense of ultimate power.

Why hadn’t he thought about this plan years ago?
Retracting his fangs, Kraven dismissed the vampires and walked

outside. It was dark and the full moon hung overhead, illuminating the
graveyard just outside the crypt. He wandered, looking for the oldest
gravestone.

He found one marked 1795.
Perfect.
Kneeling, Kraven dug a hole over the grave, pushing the dirt

aside. He bit into his flesh, holding the bleeding wrist over the six
inch hole he had created, and then pushed the dirt back into place
after a sufficient amount of blood spilled to the earth.

Kraven repeated this eleven more times around the graveyard,

always the next oldest gravestone he could find. Once the last hole
was covered, Kraven began a chant, tilting his head toward the dark
skies above.

The wind picked up and the leaves began to blow around, but

nothing happened when he finished his chant. It had been a long shot,
and Kraven hadn’t been sure it would even work. But it seemed like
he had failed.

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Now he was going to have to serve Salvador for—Kraven’s head

snapped to the first grave, watching as the dirt began to well up and
then fall to the side.

A wide grin curved up the sides of his mouth.

* * * *

Omar lay on the bed, wondering how long Freedman was going to

be. His mate had gone downstairs to talk with Rick, and Omar was
feeling a bit horny. Salvador was lying in the bed next to him.

Omar found he’d moved closer, the exotic scent of Salvador—

thick honey and wildfire—seeping into Omar’s skin, curling around
his senses. Salvador raised his hand to cup Omar’s cheek, to make
him turn and look at him.

“I can smell your lust,” Salvador said as he curled to his side,

propping his head on his hand. His obsidian eyes gazed at Omar, a
hint of humor and a pound of lust in their depths. He could see
Salvador’s desire in his eyes. Omar pushed from the bed, walking
around the other side, and then dropped to his knees, pressing the
palm of his hand over Salvador’s erection. He had never been one to
initiate things when it came to sex, but Omar had been through
enough, and besides, Salvador was his mate and they had already
been together once already.

Salvador groaned as he stared down at Omar. The black in his

eyes seemed to bleed into the whites, growing darker, hungrier.
Salvador was watching him closely.

With a roll of his body, Salvador pulled Omar from the bed, both

tumbling backward until Omar landed on top of the dark-haired man,
his mate’s eyes blazing now with want and need. Salvador raised his
hand to cup Omar’s cheek, to make the Omar turn and look at him.

Omar leaned forward, inhaling Salvador’s scent from collarbone

to ear, taking in the raw aroma of man. The scent rushed back into
Omar in a wave of intoxication. Smelling Salvador was hardening his

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cock. Omar loved the smell of man, was addicted to the flavor. It was
a scent that made him instantly hard every time the aroma was near.
And now that he was mated, Omar knew he was a goner.

His legs shifted as he straddled Salvador’s waist between his

thighs. Omar wasn’t really sure what he should do now. He gazed
down at the vampire.

“You smell edible.” Omar said the first thing to come to mind.

Salvador grinned as Omar leaned forward to nip the man on his jaw.
When he smelled the vampire’s arousal heighten, Omar felt as though
he held a small ball of bravery. “Simply edible,” he repeated with a
bit more confidence. He could feel small pants of Salvador’s breath
tickling his cheek. His mate’s breath was coming out raggedly, softly,
though.

“Then eat me, meu destino,” Salvador replied. There was no

humor in the request, only a raw need that swam over Omar like fur
running down his naked flesh. He shuddered and then nipped
Salvador on his bottom lip.

“I plan to.”
Salvador tugged at Omar’s cheek until their lips were only an inch

apart, and then Omar moaned as his mate captured Omar’s lips.
Omar’s body tightened involuntarily, every bone and muscle in him
reaching for the vampire’s mouth, the hot draw of his lips, and the
moist wash of his tongue.

Omar opened his eyes, seeing Salvador’s grimace of pleasure, the

raw lust that transformed his handsome face. Omar hadn’t thought the
man could get any better looking, but staring down at the man, he
knew he had been wrong.

Salvador slid his hands under Omar’s shirt, smoothing his fingers

over his back. Omar shivered at the contact. Salvador slid the shirt up
as his hands lifted, pulling it up and over Omar’s head. He raised his
arms and allowed Salvador to undress him, watching the man the
entire time. Salvador tossed the shirt aside. It hit the floor soundlessly,

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and then Salvador ran his hands down Omar’s chest, his thumbs
playing at his nipples.

A course of lust shot through Omar’s groin, making his dick throb

with his heartbeat as Salvador’s fangs slowly slid down. Omar leaned
forward, pushing against Salvador’s hands, forcing his way to
Salvador’s throat as he nipped the man’s neck. Seeing the fangs
should bother him. They really should. But all Omar could think
about was his mate. Omar had feared that his second capture would
lead to his death, and a lot of things had snapped in his mind.

One of those things being that he could have lost the chance to be

with Salvador again. Omar wasn’t going to second-guess anything
when it came to Salvador and Freedman. Being taken again had
shown him that he could lose either man in the blink of an eye.

Salvador’s fingers tightened on Omar’s nipples, squeezing them,

rolling them between his fingers. The pleasure of his mate’s hands
racked Omar’s body, making him tremble with need as his tongue
snaked out, licking a path from one side of Salvador’s neck to the
other.

Omar’s hands glided up Salvador’s arms, circling around his

mate’s wrists, applying the lightest of pressure as he pressed his chest
harder into Salvador’s hands. Salvador bucked underneath him, the
black in his eyes bleeding out until they were nothing but two
obsidian orbs. Salvador was watching Omar’s face with enchantment.

It was the most beautiful thing Omar had ever seen.
He shifted his weight, pressing his body down until he could

nuzzle Salvador’s neck, and then leaned back, pulling Salvador’s shirt
free from his body. Omar needed raw, naked skin. His flesh needed
flesh. Omar rubbed their chests together, feeling the sensual and hard
body beneath him.

“Are you rubbing your scent all over me, marking me?” Salvador

asked, this time humor floating around his words as his eyes gleamed
with pleasure.

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Omar hadn’t realized what he’d been doing. Now that he thought

about it, he’d never rubbed all over another man before. It had always
been a quick fuck and a good time—except when he was blackmailed
by that detective—but he’d never rubbed all over anyone before.

“Maybe I am.” Omar glanced down at the tanned and gleaming

chest. It was lean, strong, and damn near perfect. He loved the
sculpted way Salvador was formed.

The man was utterly perfect.
His hands ran over the bare flesh, his nails scraping lightly, small

red marks appearing along the way. “Maybe I am,” he repeated more
slowly this time.

Glancing down Salvador’s body, just above where Omar was

sitting, he saw the outline of Salvador’s erection. It was full, stretched
wide, and left little to the imagination. Omar released the snap on
Salvador’s pants, pulling the zipper down until he saw the moist head
of Salvador’s cock peeking out.

The vampire’s tongue licked at Omar’s nipple, his lips nibbling

sporadically. Omar gasped, his head arching back as that rough,
rasping tongue stroked over Omar’s heated flesh. Oh, that was good.
Real good. Hot, with a gentle abrasion that had Omar panting as
Salvador moved slowly to the other nipple.

He glanced down at his mate, staring into the deep pools of black

as he snaked his hand into Salvador’s jeans and massaged the heated
flesh. It was hard, but felt like liquid silk under his fingers with the
pre-cum leaking over Omar’s fingers.

Lifting his hand to his mouth, Omar sucked his fingers in, the

taste rolling over his taste buds like nectar to a bee. He groaned,
licking each finger clean before he pulled at the waistband of
Salvador’s pants, chasing the material down Salvador’s body until he
could toss the fabric aside.

Salvador lay there stunningly naked now, exposed to Omar’s

appreciative eyes. Omar saw deep scars on Salvador’s thighs, but
didn’t say a word. It made the man no less attractive in his eyes,

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although Omar wondered where he had gotten the scars from. He
drank the man in as he pushed Salvador’s thighs apart. Salvador
didn’t hesitate. He parted his legs, showing off the sexiest thing Omar
had ever seen. A male’s body was such a sculpted piece of art to
Omar, so perfect, so exotic. He found himself wanting to rub his scent
over Salvador again.

The urge was strong, compelling him to lean forward until his

stomach was touching Salvador’s erection. He rubbed his body over
Salvador’s length, feeling the pre-cum trailing over his skin.

“Marking me again?” Salvador asked, his voice wrapped around

Omar, touching him in the wickedest of places. Omar grinned as he
pushed his body down the length of Salvador until his head was even
with Salvador’s weeping cock.

“I don’t understand the compulsion.”
“It is the need to be close to your mate,” Salvador answered as his

hands wandered down Omar’s sides, resting on his hips. He knew
what Salvador was talking about. There was a pull that was almost
maddening in his mind. Omar wanted to sink deep into the man’s soul
and never come out.

It was a need so strong that Omar let it wash over him and carry

him under.

He needed to taste Salvador.
Omar licked a path to Salvador’s cock. He nuzzled in the wiry

curls before licking his way up the fully hard shaft and sucking at the
engorged head to savor Salvador’s pre-cum. As he swallowed, Omar
felt a large hand on his head and looked up to see Salvador gazing
down at him. Not only were the man’s eyes filled with hunger, but to
Omar’s amazement, they were filled with love as well.

Salvador loved him.
The strange scent in the air was wild, untamed, and pulled at

Omar’s heart. He had gone from disliking vampires and hating
humans to knowing in the depths of his soul that he loved Salvador
and Freedman.

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“You are a beautiful creature,” Salvador said as he brushed his

knuckles over Omar’s cheeks. “Suck me, meu destino.”

Salvador’s fingers caressed Omar’s jaw, almost begging Omar to

show Salvador just what he could do with his lips. Omar leaned
forward, engulfing Salvador’s cock into his mouth. Salvador groaned
out his pleasure as Omar swallowed the erection to the root. Using his
tongue, Omar laved the tender depression beneath the swollen crown
and then tongue-fucked the tiny slit, licking away the salty taste of
Salvador’s desires.

“So perfect,” Salvador hissed as he pulled his finger free, placing

his hand back onto the floor. Omar cupped the back of Salvador’s
knees, pushing the man’s legs back as he worked his mouth over
Salvador’s cock. His jeans became too tight, too confining, and Omar
wanted to stop to pull them off, but wouldn’t let the cock slip free
long enough to get the jeans free.

Salvador pushed his legs back, wrapping them around Omar’s

shoulders, pulling him closer as his fingers dug deeper into the carpet.
Omar’s chin brushed over Salvador’s sac and felt that it was drawn
close to Salvador’s body. Reaching around his mate, Omar played at
Salvador’s hole, pressing his fingers against the throbbing muscle, but
not entering.

“Only for you,” Salvador whispered as his legs tightened around

Omar’s shoulders in a death grip. “Only for you, little warrior.”

Omar reached his hand up, coating his fingers with his saliva

before placing them back at Salvador’s entrance, pushing three
fingers deep into Salvador’s tight body. Salvador shouted, and his
hips bucked, pushing his cock to the back of Omar’s mouth as hot
seed spilt down Omar’s throat. He drank it like a dying man, pulling
every last drop from Salvador’s thick cock.

Omar let Salvador’s dick slide from between his lips as he leaned

back, pushing his pants down his legs, and then kicked them off.
“Lube?”

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Salvador didn’t move for a moment, his breathing heavy, and then

he pointed toward the bed. Omar got up from the floor and saw the
tube lying on top of the cover. He grabbed the lube and then coated
his painfully straining erection. Omar was so hard and ready that he
feared he would come just from lathering his cock.

The ancient vampire was allowing Omar to fuck him. It was

something Omar had never expected. The thought had his head
spinning as he tossed the bottle of lube aside and rejoined his mate.

The head of his cock touched Salvador’s sensitive hole, but Omar

didn’t push forward. Not yet. He watched his mate in fascination as a
shudder ran over Salvador, making his body tremble slightly. Omar
could see that Salvador’s eyes hadn’t returned to normal. If anything,
they had turned darker.

Omar drew in a shuttering breath, telling himself over and over

again to gain control of his body. He was so damn close already.

Salvador’s eyes sparkled like dark gems behind the glaze, telling

Omar what Salvador truly wanted. Omar leaned forward, placing his
hands on Salvador’s chest, his cock brushing along Salvador’s crease
as he ran his tongue over his mate’s parted lips. Omar reached up and
touched Salvador’s moist lips, the pads of his fingers running along
the smooth and soft skin.

Salvador nipped at his fingers.
Omar’s cock pressed against his mate’s entrance. Salvador’s eyes

rolled upward, his hips pressing down onto Omar’s cock.

Omar didn’t move, allowing Salvador to take control.
He may be fucking the ancient vampire, but Omar had no doubt

who was the one in charge. Omar didn’t mind. He liked having
Salvador still in charge.

But hell if the man didn’t feel good wrapped around his dick. All

he could do was shudder and close his eyes when he felt his cock
enter the tight, wet heat. It was Omar who cried out, his arms shaking
as he placed his hands on Salvador’s bent knees. He was

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overwhelmed at the feeling of being inside his mate and the look of
pure ecstasy on Salvador’s face.

“You are such a tender lover,” Salvador said as he hitched his hips

higher.

Omar’s was fighting not to plunge deep inside Salvador. He could

feel his beast rising, trying to take over, but Omar refused to allow
this to happen. And then Omar almost lost his mind when Salvador
clenched his inner muscles, encasing Omar’s cock in a tight viselike
grip.

“As much as I appreciate the care you are exhibiting, I want you

to move, Omar.”

When he felt his cock bottom out, Omar was damn sure he was

going to lose his mind. There was no other way to describe the
growing madness inside of him. Omar began to move inside Salvador
once his cock was completely buried, slowly at first, pulling almost
completely out and then pushing back in.

“Faster, meu amor.”
Omar quickened his movements and soon he was fucking

Salvador with passion, ramming his cock hard and deep into his
lover’s ass. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Omar could
die this second and know that he had visited heaven already.

Salvador began to slide back up Omar’s cock, the grip like an iron

fist as Omar’s body trembled. He growled gently, looking down to
where their bodies joined together, watching his cock reappear from
Salvador’s giving flesh.

Salvador snarled, letting Omar know that even though he was on

the bottom, he was still topping. His legs lifted to wrap around
Omar’s hips, locking him into place as Omar slammed his cock into
Salvador’s ass harder.

Salvador’s fangs gleamed as his head rolled from side to side, his

back arching as Salvador let out a throaty groan. The muscles in
Omar’s thighs grew tight as he watched the beautiful sight beneath

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him. His fingers traced over Salvador’s sharp teeth, touching each
point as he rocked his cock in and out of Salvador’s body.

Omar wanted to bite, the need so intense that his gums ached. “I

need to bite you,” Salvador grunted as his hands curled into fists, the
knuckles turning a ghostly white from the strain. Omar leaned
forward, pressing his chest into Salvador’s thick calves. The dark hair
that decorated Salvador’s legs scrubbed along Omar’s chest as he
tilted his head, exposing his neck to his vampire mate, knowing what
Salvador wanted, needed.

Salvador’s hands left the floor as he grabbed Omar’s hair, pulling

it hard as his teeth sank into Omar’s neck. An explosion rocketed
through Omar’s body, the sensation racing down his arms and then
scattered to the four corners. His mind was fragmenting as he shoved
his cock into Salvador’s ass, his seed forcefully being pulled from his
body. Omar cried out, his teeth hurting so badly with the need to bite,
to claim his mate, that it damn near drove him crazy.

Salvador sucked at Omar’s neck, sending shock waves through his

body. He had heard that a vampire’s bite was like nothing ever felt
before, but Omar was relieved to know he wouldn’t become addicted
to the man. That was not something he wanted.

Omar’s legs quivered as his back stiffened, giving Salvador room

by tilting his head farther to the side.

His mate licked the wound and then touched Omar’s face with his

fingers. “Claim me.”

Omar didn’t hesitate. He sank his canines deep into Salvador’s

shoulder, his hips curling as his cock plunged in and out of the man’s
ass. Omar felt a primal growl building in his throat as he claimed his
mate. It was a powerful feeling and one he had never felt before.

It shocked him.
Salvador arched his back, letting out a guttural sound as his seed

splashed between them. Omar kept going. He wasn’t finished with his
mate. He wanted to possess, to take over, and to rule Salvador.

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“Retract your canines,” Salvador commanded in a gentle tone.

“You are feeling the effects of my blood. You must let go before you
go mad.”

Omar pulled away, feeling his eyes glow as he licked the blood

from his lips, wanting more.

Salvador grabbed his chin, yanking Omar’s head down. As he

stared into his mate’s eyes, Omar felt the drugging feeling gradually
fade. Giving his hips a few more plunges, Omar held tight to
Salvador’s hands as he came unglued. He was frozen in time and
space as he found his pleasure, and felt his body emptying as endless
spurts of cum filled Salvador’s ass.

Omar was exhausted as he pulled his cock free and curled on the

floor next to Salvador. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but at the
moment, he didn’t care.

All that mattered to him was feeling Salvador’s arms wrap around

him and being pulled close. The strength and safe feeling were
enough for Omar to relax and let the tiny aftershocks settle him into
sleep.

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Chapter Seventeen

“We still need to head to the labs,” Rick said as he paced the

room, fury etched in fine lines around his eyes and mouth.

“What if they are waiting for us?” Benito asked.
The man had a point. Freedman never wanted to know what it was

like to be locked up again. He thought he was going to die protecting
Omar. Although Freedman knew he would have done so, it was not
something he ever wanted to experience again.

“We’ve managed to destroy all existing detention centers. As far

as we know, the two labs are the last remaining places changelings are
being experimented on. If we take them down, then it will be a victory
on our side,” Rick said. “I’m pretty damn sure the labs aren’t as well
protected as the detention center was.”

“Let’s just remember to get some new uniforms. This one is

beginning to chafe my ass,” Dorian said as he plucked at the material.
“What I wouldn’t give for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.”

Freedman chuckled. “I think we are all sick of wearing them.”

Freedman was no longer in the military. Although a small part of him
would mourn the day when he took it off for the last time. It had been
an integral part of who he was. If they won the war—no, when they
won the war—he just might be pardoned of all charges.

But would Freedman still want to be a part of the military? That

was a question he didn’t have a ready answer for.

“We can split into two teams and get the job done faster,” Rick

said, pulling Freedman from his deep thoughts. “Let’s hope the labs
are right next to one another. If we hit them at the same time, we
should catch the humans off guard.”

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“I don’t like the idea of splitting up.” Freedman voiced his

opinion. “Separating makes us more vulnerable.”

Rick shifted to his other leg, placing his hands on his hips,

weariness in his eyes. “The only true shot we have of bringing both
labs down is to hit them simultaneously.”

“What about other Rebellions?” Miguel asked and Freedman

knew the answer before Rick said it out loud.

“We were betrayed by a sympathizer. I don’t want to chance that

with something this important. We’ll head down together and then
split up when we are close to the labs.”

Freedman didn’t like going in blind, but knew they had no choice.

There was no way there were going to find blueprints on the two labs.
He just prayed like hell they didn’t find changelings tortured and
mutilated.

“Does everyone agree to go?” Rick asked. “Trust me, after what

just happened to us, I would fully understand if any of you wanted to
stay behind or head to a safe location.”

“We’ve come this far,” Nate replied as he leaned his back against

the wall. “Why back out now?”

“I’m in,” both Miguel and Benito said.
Freedman saw Rick glance over at Selene.
“Don’t even try it, alpha. Just because they used me against you

doesn’t mean I’m going to go running and hiding.” Her voice was
filled with offense, and Freedman wondered if Rick was about to get
his ass chewed off. “If you start treating me like a defenseless
female…” Selene trailed off, but everyone in the room got the gist of
what she was saying.

“Never.” Rick winked at her.
“Stop flirting with my mate.” Sasha growled.
“Oh, you mean like when you were flirting with Dorian?” Rick

asked and Freedman winced. The next thing he knew, Selene was
smacking Sasha on the back of his head. Sasha narrowed his eyes at
Rick.

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“Payback,” Rick said with a chuckle.
Dorian rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word.
“Everyone, pack up. We’ll travel through the night, find

someplace to rest when we get close, and then hit them when it’s full
dark.” Rick walked from the room, Dorian close behind. Freedman
glanced at the others and could see the tiredness in their eyes. They
were all sick as fuck of this war. It was no hidden secret.

“I guess we’re heading out,” Freedman finally said as he exited

the living room. Never in his life had he ridden so much, and he was
tired of seeing the inside of a vehicle and the long road that always
seemed to be stretched out before them.

Freedman would be glad as hell when he could finally kick his

feet up and not have to constantly look over his shoulder. What he
wouldn’t give to settle down with Omar and Salvador, although
Freedman wasn’t really sure where they would be settling.

Did Salvador plan on taking them back to his home in Brazil?

Would Freedman go? He wasn’t really sure what he would do as he
headed toward the bedrooms on the second floor. It was too soon to
ponder over the decision anyway. He would leave it for later.

Freedman smiled when he heard Omar’s laughter. It wasn’t often

he saw the man smile, but to hear his mate laughing made Freedman’s
heart lighter. He opened the bedroom door to see Omar sitting on the
bed and Salvador in the middle of getting dressed. Well damn, what
had he missed?

Omar glanced at him and a deep blush suffused his face.
“We’re heading out,” Freedman said as he walked over to the bed

and kissed Omar on his lips. “Get dressed.” Although getting
undressed would be a better option.

“I need to assemble my coven,” Salvador said as he straightened.

“We will follow you close since it is full dark.” Freedman nodded at
his mate as Salvador walked from the room.

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Turning, Freedman’s eyes grazed over Omar. “So, what did I

miss?” he asked, crawling up onto the bed and pulling Omar’s naked
body with him.

Freedman stroked a hand down Omar’s side, planting light kisses

on the man’s jaw, teasing Omar because he knew his lover was just a
bit nervous. He could tell by the deep flush of Omar’s body. His pale
skin now held a tinge of pink. How the man was still nervous around
him was anyone’s guess. Freedman’s gazed into Omar’s eyes and
smiled when his mate lowered his head.

“Freedman.”
“Don’t be shy,” Freedman said playfully as Omar groaned, and

something inside Freedman snapped. Omar was lying here, trusting
him, saying his name so seductively that it took everything in
Freedman not to forgo the gentleness and take what he wanted. The
man gave him an almost lazy look as he gazed up at Freedman, but
Freedman could see the tension in Omar’s light-grey eyes as well.

Stretching out beside Omar, Freedman petted the man, still lightly

kissing his mate’s soft skin. His fingers ran down Omar’s side, over
the silkiness of his hip, and then Freedman pulled Omar’s leg over his
side. “We have to hurry. Everyone is packing up to leave.”

Fire raced down Freedman’s throat and entered his bloodstream,

melting him from the inside out as Omar gave a shy nod.

Freedman gave a small smile and then leaned down, licking a long

path from Omar’s shoulder to his collarbone, taking things slow,
giving Omar a chance to back out if he wanted to.

This was all about the smaller man, even if Freedman’s cock was

excruciatingly hard and begging to be buried deep inside Omar’s ass.
It was throbbing painfully as he stroked a hand lightly over Omar’s
soft skin. It was sweet torment to feel such smooth skin under his
hand. His gaze flickered over every inch of Omar’s exposed body,
feeling deep inside how much he truly cared about this man.

When Omar moaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes

with a soft flutter, a look of pure ecstasy washed over his delicate

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face. Freedman knew he wasn’t going to allow the man to get dressed.
There was no way in fucking hell he was letting this man go before he
pleased them both.

Freedman took just long enough to get undressed before he was

pulling his naked mate back into his arms. He slid the palm of his
callused hand down Omar’s back, cupping his ass as he laid soft
kisses on Omar’s neck, alternating between licks and nips. He could
feel Omar’s hard shaft against his abdomen, but didn’t attempt to do
anything with the man’s arousal.

Omar gave a low whimper as he dug his fingers into Freedman’s

shoulders, trying his best to pull Freedman closer.

“This has to be a quickie,” Freedman murmured, although he

wished they had time to indulge in each other the way Freedman truly
wanted to. When his mate tilted his head back, Freedman lowered his
head and took possession of Omar’s mouth. Freedman felt Omar open
to him and he swept his tongue inside to subdue the shyer muscle,
sucking it slowly. Their moans and groans echoed through the room
as their tongues dueled and tasted each other.

With a reluctant groan Freedman pulled away, a thumb tracing the

now-swollen lower lip of the smaller man to soothe any perceived
reluctance. He was pretty sure Omar and Salvador had just had sex
and he wasn’t sure if Omar was ready for another bout—even if it was
a quick fooling around.

Omar buried his face in Freedman’s chest as Freedman leaned on

one arm, using his free hand to trace small circles around Omar’s hip,
watching the skin rise up in goose bumps.

It amazed him how responsive Omar was to his touch.
The man was such a sensual being. Freedman was certain he

would never get enough of Omar. He was pure, liquid heat in
Freedman’s arms. After a moment of just leisure touching, Freedman
felt the slighter body move closer and meld to his. The man was no
longer stiff.

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Well, he was stiff, but not in the sense Freedman had feared.

Omar’s cock was hot and weeping against him, iron hard and letting
Freedman know that Omar truly wanted him.

Omar’s fingers flexed. “How much time do we have?”
Freedman nipped Omar’s chin in a playful manner. “Enough to

get us both off, baby.”

Omar nodded into Freedman’s chest.
Freedman reached over and tucked his index finger under Omar’s

chin, lifting the man’s head and then taking another long, sweet,
drugging kiss. When he pulled back, a smile formed on his lips. Omar
looked so enraptured that Freedman just wanted to hug the man. “You
taste like heaven.”

Slowly, Omar’s eyelids fluttered open, his light-blue eyes shining.

“That sounds so corny,” he said with a laugh.

Freedman chuckled and then nipped Omar on his lower lip. It was

still swollen and full from kissing Freedman. “But true.” He couldn’t
believe how natural being with Omar felt. Freedman wasn’t one to
show affection, or become playful in bed. But Omar and Salvador
seemed to bring those qualities out in him and Freedman found that
he liked it.

When Omar leaned up and kissed Freedman’s chest, Freedman

shuddered as pure pleasure racked his body. Omar never looked more
stunning than he did as he took from Freedman. It was exquisite
agony as Omar took his time, exploring Freedman’s body with his
tongue, hands, and eyes. If the man didn’t let up soon, Freedman was
going to come just from the sensual way the man was handling him.
There was a distinct desire of need in his lover’s eyes and the look
damn near made Freedman crazy with lust. His body was burning to
get inside Omar, but Freedman knew they didn’t have time.

Instead, Freedman leaned back, lining their cocks up, and then

wrapped his hand around the two hard erections. Omar watched him
curiously, until Freedman started stroking both of their shafts in a
slow rhythm, nipping at Omar’s earlobe.

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“A hand job?” Omar asked with teasing sensuality.
Freedman winked at Omar as he twisted his wrist, squeezing both

of their cocks as he watched Omar watch his hand. He loved how
Omar hissed out his pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if
he were close to losing control. The look on Omar’s face was raw
ecstasy.

“Reach under the pillow and hand me the lube.”
Omar slid his hand under the pillow and handed over the tube. He

watched intently as Freedman snapped the lid open and poured a
generous amount onto his hand and then both their cocks.

“Oh hell,” Omar moaned when Freedman grabbed their shafts

once more.

Tossing the bottle aside, Freedman scooted closer, using his free

hand to caress Omar’s sac. Rapturous pleasure surged through
Freedman as his cock swelled further. His own sac tightened against
his body as he watched the slit on the head of Omar’s cock drip with
the clear liquid he was dying to taste.

“Squeeze it harder,” Omar begged.
“As hard as you want, baby.” He knew what Omar really wanted,

and Freedman wasn’t denying he wanted the same. But sometimes
fooling around was just as satisfying as full penetration. Freedman
groaned loudly at his thoughts.

“I need more, Freedman,” Omar whimpered.
Freedman reached lower, teasing Omar’s hole with his finger as

he stroked their cocks faster, a rush of heat beginning to consume
him. “You want me to fuck you here, don’t you?” he asked, his voice
ragged as he pushed only the tip of his finger into Omar’s tight
entrance, fighting the wave of hot, delicious need that urged him to
push all the way in to the last knuckle. His cock pulsed and swelled
further. Incredible heat was at his fingertip and oh, god how
Freedman fought against his instincts to just turn the man over and
fuck him into oblivion.

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Omar hissed, nodding his head rapidly as he strained to impale his

ass onto Freedman’s finger, pushing back, trying his best to shatter
what little control Freedman had. And then Omar smiled in a way that
had Freedman’s stomach all tight and hot.

Out of sheer will, he kept his finger from sliding all of the way

into the tight channel. He was not about to give in to his own needs,
no matter how badly he wanted to bury his cock deep into Omar’s
body.

Bowing his back, Omar’s moans became louder, more needy as he

writhed around. Freedman pressed at Omar’s hole as he began a
frenzied thrusting with his other hand, his cock so engorged it was
almost painful. He wanted them both to find their orgasm together. He
wanted them both to spiral out of control and fall headfirst into the
madness that was building between them.

“Make me come. Oh, fucking god make me come,” Omar panted

as he thrust his hips, driving his cock deeper into Freedman’s tight
fist.

“You’re about to fucking come, baby,” Freedman murmured,

biting back the snarl that wanted to erupt from his chest. He was an
alpha male and used to getting what he wanted. Holding out because
not having time was going against Freedman’s nature, but he knew if
he sank his cock into Omar’s ass, they wouldn’t be leaving anytime
soon.

He ran his thumb over the slit in Omar’s cock, watching as the

head turned a darker shade of red. His eyes shot up to Omar and he
almost swallowed his tongue when he saw Omar silently mouthing
Freedman’s name over and over again. The sight was nothing short of
erotic, and Freedman was lost to the man.

Omar pulled his legs up and then planted his feet into the bed right

before he pushed his lower half into the air, crying out Freedman’s
name as hot, wet spunk shot from his cock.

The smell of Omar’s essence in the air triggered Freedman’s

release, his body exploding as his seed landed on Omar’s chest and

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chin. His fist tightened around their cocks, fighting against the primal
and possessive need that was rising up inside of him.

Freedman’s entire body was covered in sweat as he held on to

their softening cocks, reluctant to let go, not wanting this perfect
moment to end.

He leaned down, scraping his teeth over Omar’s jaw. “We have to

go, baby.”

Freedman quickly kissed Omar on his neck and then smiled.

“Hate to jack off and run.” Omar sighed heavily as he pulled away
and walked to the bathroom, his tight little ass swaying, holding
Freedman’s attention until the door closed.

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Chapter Eighteen

Dorian stood on the side of the road as he watched Omar shouting

and writhing in Freedman’s arms. The werewolf had already shifted
into a young cougar, a jaguar, and a deer—which Dorian was still
trying to figure out—now he was shifting into a jackal.

Just what in the fuck had those scientists done to Omar?
“Get me some water,” Freedman said as he held tightly to Omar’s

arching body. “He’s burning up.”

Benito rummaged in the back of the truck and handed Freedman a

bottle of water over the seat. “Is he going to be okay?”

Freedman shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.”
Dorian could hear the pain in Freedman’s voice and sympathized

with the man. He knew what that pain felt like firsthand. But Omar
wasn’t shifting for the very first time. He had been a changeling his
entire life.

Salvador appeared by the truck and hurried into the backseat.

Dorian turned away and gazed at his mate. Rick’s eyes held concern
and understanding. He knew what Dorian was feeling. They had been
together for over a year now. There wasn’t much Rick didn’t know
about him.

Nate slid from the other truck, striding toward them. “He shifting

again?”

Dorian glanced back at the truck. “Into a jackal this time. At least

he won’t have to worry about you trying to eat him.”

Nate chuckled. “I am who I am. I can’t apologize for that.” His

jade-green eyes held the truth. Nate was a predator through and

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through and had no qualms about it. Dorian was still getting used to
his werewolf, but deep down inside, he felt the same way Nate did.

He was now a changeling predator. Fact was fact. He had fought

being converted by Rick. But the longer he was a werewolf, the more
Dorian liked the heightened senses and all the other perks a
changeling had.

He still hadn’t told his parents yet.
Dorian was pretty sure they wouldn’t mind. They were great like

that. His dad supported him and his brother Ian to a fault. The guy
was the best dad a guy could have.

God, he missed his family, but Dorian knew they had to finish this

fight before he could be happily reunited with them. He did have a
new baby brother now. Dorian wondered how his mom and Christmas
were doing.

“It sounds pretty goddamn painful,” Sasha commented as he came

to stand next to Nate.

Benito slipped from the back of the truck. “Okay, I’m officially

wigged out. That’s the fourth breed he’s changed into. If he shifts into
another one, Omar is going to be one scary-ass man.”

“Just don’t bleed around him,” Dorian said. “You’ll be running

from five different beasts—although I’m not sure about his deer. It
just might want to help you.”

Benito didn’t look amused. As a matter of fact, he looked

downright sick at the idea. “Yeah, the deer might want to help, but the
werewolf, cougar, jaguar, and jackal will eat me alive. Now I know
how Beastman felt. I’m not used to feeling like prey.”

“Don’t worry,” Dorian teased. “I’ll protect you.”
Benito rolled his eyes high and to the left as he pursed his lips.

“Highly doubtful, juvenile.”

“You just love that, don’t you?” Dorian snarled. “I’m not a

juvenile if I’m Rick’s mate. That places me higher than you in the
pack.”

Benito blinked. “I guess that does.” He was pouting.

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“That’s enough,” Rick said as he moved in behind Dorian and

placed his arms around Dorian’s shoulders, pulling him close. Ever
since Dorian’s little meltdown, Rick was being too goddamn nice.
What happened to the days when they exchanged barbs? Dorian had
actually liked matching wits. But he couldn’t deny he liked feeling his
mate wrapped around him either.

Salvador backed out of the truck. “He has shifted. Why do I feel

as if my mate was in labor instead of shifting into a jackal?”

Was that a joke? Dorian was going to fall over with a coronary. It

seemed the longer Salvador was around them, the more they rubbed
off on the guy. “Because he was sweating, panting, and begging for
water.”

His back vibrated at Rick’s deep chuckle. It slid all the way down

his body and tightened his groin. What he wouldn’t give for a flat
surface right now.

“Can we go now?” Nate asked. “Or do you want to wait to see if

it’s a boy or girl…or a little baby with fangs?”

Salvador glanced over at Nate and then the side of his mouth

twitched. Yeah, Salvador had been around them too damn long
now—even if it was a few short days. The man’s sense of humor was
being corrupted by everyone in the Rebellion group.

“Fuck!” Freedman shouted from the backseat, making everyone

turn around. “Is a jackal supposed to have hooves and a soft white
tail?”

Dorian gaped at the truck. “Hooves?”
Salvador was back at the truck in a millisecond, but Dorian could

see Nate and Sasha trying their best not to burst out laughing.

“It isn’t funny,” Dorian said.
“From whose perspective?” Nate asked. “Okay.” He held up his

hands. “You’re right. It isn’t funny.”

“So is he prey or predator?” Benito asked. “I’m confused.”
“We all are,” Rick said as he released Dorian and headed for the

backseat. He stopped when his cell phone began to ring.

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* * * *

“Richard Carson,” Rick said as he answered the phone, wondering

if Omar was all right or if the man was changing into something else.

He was afraid to find out.
“I highly doubt your name is Richard Carson, Enrique Marcelo.”
Rick frowned. He didn’t recognize the voice. His back stiffened

and he glanced around, feeling exposed at having a stranger call him.
No one should have this number. “Who is this?”

“The man who is going to end your life.”
Rick wasn’t sure how he knew, but his gut told him he was

speaking to Captain O’Hanlon, aka his biological father. Ever since
he found out the truth about who O’Hanlon was and why this war had
been waged, a thousand different scenarios played out in his mind. He
had so much to say to the man—and none of it was warm and fuzzy.

But now that he could finally speak his mind, it went blank. He

had been caught off guard and couldn’t think of one damn thing to say
to the man. His heart was beating faster, his throat drying out, and he
began to sweat, yet nothing came to mind.

Dorian glanced curiously at Rick, his head cocked to one side as

his brows lowered. Rick tried to gain control over his racing mind, but
nothing was working.

“Nothing to say to me, animal?”
Rick opened his mouth and then closed it, still drawing a blank.

His entire world was falling apart around him and Rick was standing
in the middle of the road with brain block.

“I curse the day you were born and look forward to ending your

existence.” O’Hanlon paused, but when he spoke again, his voice was
low and lethal. “I’m coming after you, Enrique, but rest assured, I
won’t fail like the others.”

Rick listened as the man hung up. Bile began to rise to the back of

his throat, and then his rage kicked in, throwing his head back, Rick

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173

howled as the threat sank in. The phone that had been in his hand was
crushed as he felt himself shifting.

“Whoa,” Nate shouted as he cautiously moved closer. “What the

hell is going on, Rick?”

Rick couldn’t speak. But this time it wasn’t from shock. It was

from the rage boiling deep inside of him, festering like a disease as he
imagined his hands wrapping around the human’s neck and squeezing
the very life from his lungs.

“Who called you?” Dorian asked. “Who was it, Rick?”
“O’Hanlon.” Rick walked away, down the road in the opposite

direction they needed to go. He cursed himself for freezing up. He
cursed himself for not telling the man that it wasn’t Rick who was
going to die. And he cursed himself for feeling a pain lacerate him on
a very deep level.

Rick didn’t know this man. There was no bond between them. Yet

it had hurt on a level that infuriated him. O’Hanlon wanted him dead
and Rick was mourning the loss of not knowing his biological father.

What kind of an idiot was he? Why in the hell did he wish things

were different so he could get to know the man? It was a thought that
shouldn’t have entered his mind. But Rick knew that O’Hanlon was
going to die on the pure fact that he had made Rick feel the profound
loss.

“Rick?” Dorian asked from behind him. “Talk to me, please.”
Rick spun, pulling Dorian into his arms and burying his face in his

mate’s hair. “It hurts, Dorian. It shouldn’t, but it does.”

“Of course it hurts,” Dorian replied as he wrapped his arms

around Rick’s waist. “The man who fathered you has betrayed you. I
know how much family means to you.”

“I’m a fucking idiot.”
“No.” Dorian soothed his hands over Rick’s back. “You are

someone who has the capacity to love. There is nothing wrong with
that. Unfortunately your caring is being given to the wrong man. It’s

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his loss, Rick. He is the one who has missed out on knowing what a
damn good man you turned into.”

Rick gripped his mate tighter. “I want him dead, gatito.” And that

was the honest truth. Rick never wanted anyone dead as much as he
wanted O’Hanlon to die a slow and painful death. The man didn’t
deserve to breathe. He was killing an entire species just to get rid of
the proof that he had slept with a werewolf.

O’Hanlon was evil incarnate and Rick planned on wiping the man

from existence, not the other way around.

“You and me both.” Dorian leaned back, his Peruvian-brown eyes

fierce. “What did he say?”

“That he was coming after me.”
Rick could feel the rage encase Dorian and he loved the fact that

his mate was angry for him. “Let him come. I would love to watch
you end his fucking life.”

Rick kissed Dorian’s cheek. “So violent.”
“When it comes to you, you’re damn skippy. I may have my

moments of going a little nutty, but there is nothing I wouldn’t do for
you, Rick. Nothing. If someone has a problem with you, then they
have a problem with me. In this until the end, remember?”

That Rick did.
“Now let’s go blow up these goddamn labs and head to

Washington. You kill O’Hanlon while I give the president a piece of
my mind.”

Rick wasn’t sure how Dorian had the magic touch every time he

became enraged, but he found himself smiling like a loon. “Just make
sure I’m there to hear it.”

“Right.” Dorian winked at him. “But until then, let’s go find out

what in the hell Omar is.”

Rick shivered. He wasn’t sure what had been done to Omar, but

he would really love to unkill Formente to get some answers.

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Unfortunately, the detention center was nothing more than

smoldering ashes, all records destroyed. As they approached the
truck, Rick saw Salvador shaking his head.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” The vampire turned toward

them. “He is a jackal, and a deer. How can that be?”

“They experimented on him for close to a year,” Dorian said.

“There is no telling what was injected into his blood.”

Salvador’s black eyes shimmered with a darkness that made Rick

want to take a step back, but he remained where he was. If it had been
Dorian, Rick knew he would be just as livid.

“I fear he will remain a changeling with many breeds dwelling

inside of him.”

“You could always look at this in a positive light,” Rick said. “He

has choices now.”

The ancient vampire soured his face as he turned back toward the

truck. Rick shrugged. “I tried to cheer him up.”

The hairs on the back of Rick’s neck stood on end just as

Salvador’s coven converged on the truck, their eyes turning toward
the northeast. Rick didn’t like the feeling settling inside of him. He
had had the same feeling when Salvador had appeared, but not the
same. It didn’t make sense to Rick, but it almost felt as if the four
horsemen of the apocalypse were descending upon them.

“Get into the truck,” Salvador said in an ominous tone. “What is

coming our way is nothing to trifle with.”

“What is it?” Dorian asked.
Salvador looked off into the distance, and the unsure look settled

like a rock in Rick’s stomach.

“I do not know, pequeno guerreiro.”
“Good to know the ancient one is clueless,” Sasha said

sarcastically, but Rick could hear the undertone of worry in the
alpha’s voice.

Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to greeting their guests either.

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Rick growled when Kraven appeared on the road about a quarter

mile away. The Mãos da Morte were with him, and twelve more men
Rick couldn’t identify. “I thought you only had twelve creepy men,”
he said to Salvador.

“I am not sure who those men are,” Salvador replied. “But I can

feel their birth. They are newly created.” Salvador cocked his head
and the move reminded Rick of a bird. “I can scent my blood in them,
but something does not smell right. How has Kraven used my Mãos
da Morte against me? That should not be possible.”

“Fucking great,” Rick murmured. “More boogeymen.”
“But far worse,” Salvador added.
Kraven walked about ten paces and then stopped. “It is a pleasure

seeing you once again, Salvador Santos Almeida. It has been too
long.”

Rick didn’t like the way Kraven was greeting Salvador. The

vampire was too damn sure of himself.

“Something I need to know?” Rick asked Salvador.
“Kraven came to me, striking a deal to have control of my Mãos

da Morte. I granted his request to take possession of them for two
hundred years, but in return I required one thousand years of
servitude. I thought Kraven would back out of the deal, the demand
too heavy, but he did not.”

“And his time is up,” Rick surmised.
“Indeed it is.”
“So what in the hell did he do?” Rick asked, glancing at the

twelve men who didn’t resemble Salvador’s boogeymen.

“It seems he created his own Mãos da Morte using the blood of

one of my own.”

“Oh, hell,” Miguel said from behind them. “We are so fucking

screwed.”

Kraven held his arms wide. “You disrespect me by refusing me a

proper greeting, Salvador?”

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Salvador spit on the ground. “You are a turned vampire, not born

of our flesh. You deserve no reverence or accolade. You are the very
dirt I walk upon, an abomination.”

Kraven’s face mottled with anger. “We’ll see about that once my

Soul Reapers are finished with you.”

Soul Reapers, really? That term didn’t make Rick feel at ease. As

a matter of fact, he wanted to grab his group and get the hell out of
there, but damn if he was going to let Kraven run him away.

He was an alpha. Whether the creatures with Kraven defeated

Rick or not, he was standing tall and proud next to Salvador and his
coven.

Fuck that piece of shit and his little minions.
“You dare use my very own creations to breed your

abominations!” Salvador said in rage. Before Rick could blink,
Salvador sliced his arm through the air, and then the Mãos da Morte
fell the ground, burning into a bright, consuming light before nothing
was left of them but smoldering ashes.

Rick gaped at Salvador.
“I will kill my very own to ensure they are never used in such a

manner again.”

He heard Salvador, but Rick felt the man’s pain. He hadn’t wanted

to destroy the creatures. They had been feared because of what
Kraven had used them for over the years, but he was willing to bet
Salvador had wielded them differently.

That still didn’t mean he wasn’t glad as hell that they were gone.
Kraven’s eyes widened and then lowered to tiny slits. “I still have

my Soul Reapers.” He waved a hand at Rick and the others, and then
the things came flying at them. Kraven disappeared as Rick shifted
into his werewolf form.

He knew they were in deep shit because Salvador didn’t own the

Soul Reapers.

Kraven did, and the bastard had just vanished.

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Chapter Nineteen

Salvador tried to push into the Soul Reapers’ minds, but found

nothing but a dark evil residing inside all twelve of them. It was like
nothing he had ever encountered before. There was absolutely nothing
there, a void, an absence of intelligence and spirit.

In that moment Salvador knew they had to be destroyed. But as he

wielded his mind like a weapon, any pain he threw their way was felt
in his very own body.

Kraven had not only used Mãos da Morte blood to create these

abominations, but he had also used a chant to reverberate anything
Salvador attempted against these creatures to fall back on him. He
staggered, holding his chest as he glanced at Enrique. “I cannot kill
them if I do not wish to fall myself. Kraven has bound their lives to
mine.”

“Then step aside,” Enrique said with confidence. “My men and

yours will deal with them.”

“You cannot kill them.”
The werewolf alpha glared at Salvador. “You sure as fuck know

how to tie someone’s hands.”

“It was not I who tied your hands, Enrique.”
“I swear, if I ever get my hands on Kraven, I’m going to torture

the bastard.” Enrique moved forward, his group and Salvador’s coven
moving as well. Salvador reached out and grabbed Omar, pulling him
back.

“You are not well, meu destino. You must not fight.”
Omar was still in his jackal form, with hooves and a fluffy tail.

Salvador was still shocked as hell, but he knew he would take Omar

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179

any way the man came. Omar was his and Salvador would keep the
man even if Omar turned into a two-headed penguin.

Which he prayed like hell never happened.
Omar gave a low growl, but didn’t move any further.
Although he knew Omar was a warrior at heart, the man was first

and foremost Salvador’s mate. “Thank you, little warrior. I know your
heart is brave, but one must know when to back away.” Salvador
wished like hell he could destroy the men advancing toward the
group, but the pain would not only render him unconscious, it would
kill him.

He had to find a way to reverse what Kraven had done. Salvador

had underestimated the man, but he would not do so in the future.
Holding tight to Omar, he watched as the battle began. The Soul
Reapers were not as skilled fighters as the Mãos da Morte, but they
weren’t easily defeated. Salvador gripped Omar tighter as he endured
the pain of every strike against the Soul Reapers. He felt it when one
of them was cut. He felt it when one of them was bitten. His insides
felt as if hot molten lava were bubbling and spilling over into his gut,
but Salvador refused to crumble under the agony.

Omar licked at his face, but Salvador found no relief in his mate’s

comforting gestures. Not when he was being attacked by an entire
coven and Rebellion group. He knew his coven were worthy
opponents and felt the blows every single time.

But what surprised him was how well Enrique and his group

fought. Salvador dropped to the ground when it felt as if his knee
were shattering. “Don’t use fucking guns!” he shouted at Benito.

“My bad,” Benito called out as he holstered his gun and began to

use claws and teeth. Salvador wasn’t sure if that option was any
better. Not when he felt every slice, every bite. But he fought to get
past the agonizing torture and used his mind to create high winds and
blinding dust clouds.

Neither the Rebellion group nor his coven faltered, but the Soul

Reapers seemed a bit disoriented. They were newly created, lacking

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the skills to tune out the chaos of outside factors. They began to
blindly swing at the air, slicing into nothingness.

The Rebellion group and coven used this to their advantage.

Salvador knew because he felt the sting of the blow, bites, cuts, claws,
and hard punches. He was on the ground writhing in pain, praying he
survived the battle.

Omar had shifted and placed Salvador’s head in his lap. “What

can I do?” the smaller man asked desperately.

“Pray for me,” Salvador said as he panted, trying to pull air into

his lungs as his gut felt every blow, knocking the air right back out of
him.

Using the self-preservation all living beings possessed, Salvador

used the last of his dwindling powers to not only transport the
Rebellion group and his coven out of there, but the vehicles as well.

As they appeared on a road close to the labs, Salvador lost

consciousness.

* * * *

Omar watched as each coven member took turns feeding Salvador

from their wrist. He was beginning to see the difference between a
turned vampire and a muerto desde el útero. It seemed the born
vampires had honor and loyalty, whereas the turned ones cared for no
one but themselves.

He still didn’t like all these men feeding his mate. But Omar knew

he didn’t have enough blood in him to give the ancient vampire what
he needed in order to be whole again. He glanced around the empty
outlet store Rick had found for them to hide in. They were currently
sitting in the sporting goods aisle, Salvador lying on a camping cot.

His mate looked so damn pale that it frightened Omar. He might

have always thought he would mate a werewolf, but since meeting
Freedman, and then Salvador, Omar could see it was his parents and

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181

unfortunate circumstances that had made him feel hatred toward
anyone not changeling.

“He’ll be fine,” Freedman reassured him as he sat on a portable

camping chair next to Omar. “His coven is taking real good care of
him.”

“But it should be us taking care of him,” Omar said in a sour tone

that sounded a little bratty. He didn’t mean to sound that way, but
Omar hated feeling helpless. It was something he had felt too many
times in his life, and the emotions weren’t welcome.

Freedman sat back and crossed his ankles. “Unless you want him

to drain us both, there isn’t a better option. Can’t say I like it either,
but if it helps Salvador, we’ll endure it.”

Omar crossed his legs under his butt, gripping the cloth handles.

“Why do they look at him that way?”

Freedman shrugged. “Maybe because he is their leader. I don’t

think they have anything lasciviousness in mind. They are just trying
to make sure he pulls through.”

There was an underlying current in Freedman’s tone and Omar

could tell the man was just as worried as he was. He rested his chin in
his hands, watching and waiting to see Salvador’s eyes open. From
what the coven had told him, Salvador was feeding on instinct. He
wasn’t truly awake.

Omar wanted him awake.
Freedman reached over and brushed his fingers on Omar’s hand.

“He’ll be fine, baby.”

He wished he was that confident, but Omar had never seen

Salvador so damn pale before. The man had bronzed skin that looked
as if the sun had worshipped Salvador. Which he knew wasn’t true,
but the pigmentation was dark and beautiful.

“Can I ask you something?”
Freedman’s eyes became guarded, and Omar could scent unease.

“Depends.”

“Why do you protect your heart against your mates?”

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Omar could practically see the man’s shields slam into place. The

force around Freedman was almost tangible. His mate just sat there
staring at Omar with deep, penetrating eyes. But Omar had a feeling
Freedman was somewhere inside his own head. There was sadness to
the man as he blinked and then shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It does when you have two mates who would never do anything

to harm you and only want you to love us. We’re not lovers, the three
of us, we’re mates. You can’t hold back. I don’t want our relationship
to be based on good sex and nothing more.” And it was good sex, but
Omar was speaking the truth. “I grew up in a house where my parents
were determined to raise a poster boy for well-bred genes. They
pushed me to excel at my academics, pressured me into attending all
the social functions.” Omar sighed.

“I vowed that when I found my mate, things would be different. I

wouldn’t care what background he came from just as long as we
loved each other. I hated those parties. I was totally lost and socially
awkward. I may be book smart, but that hasn’t helped me one bit in
this war.”

“But you helped figure out what was wrong with Ian,” Freedman

pointed out.

“They would have eventually figured it out, Freedman. Don’t you

get it? My parents were so busy building their status and making sure
they had the perfect son that they left Omar behind. I was lonely as
hell until I met my mates. I don’t want the kind of relationship with
either of you that my parents had. I want you to know that I love you.
I want to show you as well.”

Omar had never given a speech that long in his life. Not about his

feelings. He just hoped Freedman considered his words. They were
going to be together for a very long time. He didn’t want to be with
Freedman and not have the man’s heart.

“We get along outside of sex,” Freedman said.

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183

Omar looked at the man as if he were daft. “No, not really. Look,

just think about what I said. I’m not asking you to profess your love
right this second. All I’m asking is that you consider your mates.”

His mate slid further down in his chair. His look was pensive.

“When I was in my early twenties, I met a guy named Anthony. We
were good together, and I fell in love with him. I knew in my heart we
would spend the rest of our lives together. Back then I was away on a
lot of missions. Anthony told me he understood and whenever I came
home, the man was nothing but…well, you know. About two years
after we moved in together, I came home to find Anthony standing by
his car, all his belongings packed and gone from the house. He told
me he needed someone full time.”

Omar could feel the hurt coming from the memory Freedman was

sharing with him. He wanted to reach out and comfort the man, but
stayed where he was. His mate looked as if he were having a hard
enough time telling his story.

“There was never any sign that Anthony was unhappy. He never

said a word. He just walked away from our relationship as if it meant
nothing to him.” Freedman turned toward Omar, his blue eyes filled
with pain. “If I open up my heart again, and I lose one of you, I won’t
survive. I barely survived the first time. It took me weeks, months,
years to get past Anthony. If I lost one of you, I know I would lose
my sanity.”

Slipping from his chair, Omar crawled into Freedman’s lap and

settled back, resting his head on Freedman’s broad shoulder. “But you
can’t go through life shielding your heart, Freedman. You have to
take a risk or none of us will be truly happy.”

His mate ran his hands up and down Omar’s arms. “I’ll try to

learn how to let go.”

That was all Omar was asking. “Shouldn’t Salvador be awake by

now?”

“Beats me. I’ve never had to nurse a vampire out of

unconsciousness before.”

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He wished he could get his hands on the Soul Reapers. Omar

would teach them a lesson.

Okay, maybe not. But Omar was fuming mad that Salvador had

been hurt. What was Kraven thinking linking Salvador to those vile
creatures? Omar wanted to smack the man. All that mattered now was
stopping the psycho son of a bitch.

Omar prayed like hell Salvador got his strength back and beat the

snot out of Kraven. Maybe with the idiot dead, the Soul Reapers
would just go away.

Then his thoughts shifted to what had happened in the truck

before Kraven showed up. Omar shuddered. How in the hell had he
shifted into two breeds at once? That was unheard of. And to become
a predator and prey at the same time was conflicting. Omar hated who
he had become. He was a freak of nature now. He couldn’t even say
his werewolf was his base breed. There was no longer a clear picture
inside of him.

Freedman tapped Omar on his shoulder. “Why the sad look?

Salvador will pull through.”

Shaking his head, Omar sat a little straighter. “How many breeds

do you think will form inside of me?”

“Form?”
“I think that’s the reason I’m in so much pain when a new breed

comes out. They are being born inside of me from whatever Formente
has done to me. How many more do you think will emerge?”

Freedman bent his head and rubbed his cheek on Omar’s hair. “I

can’t honestly tell you, Omar. No one knows what Formente did to
you. As much as you don’t want to hear this, it’s pretty much a wait
and see game.”

No, Omar really didn’t want to hear that. He now had four breeds

inside of him, one of which was a fucking fluffy, cute deer.

Omar was not fluffy and cute. He was a predator. Although he

may lack the skills to be an excellent fighter, he was not going to be
on anyone’s menu. “I don’t want to wait and see. I’m a damn freak.”

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185

Freedman glared at Omar, his light-blue eyes flashing like frigid

ice. “You are not a damn freak, Omar.”

“Name another changeling who has more than two breeds inside

of him!”

“Edward.” One name, but it reminded Omar that he was not alone.

Edward was the rat king, with cougar and vampire in him as well.

Omar sat back, pressing his back into Freedman’s chest.
“Rick and Sasha are half breeds. Do you look at your alpha any

different knowing he isn’t fully werewolf?”

Omar shot forward. “God, no! He is still the same strong leader

I’ve known for four years. He didn’t choose to be half human.”

“And you didn’t choose to be injected. I’m finding that there are

more and more mixed blood changelings in existence. What’s so bad
about that?”

Omar had to remember that Freedman was human. He had no clue

about the changeling laws. “Being a half breed is bad in our species.
We are ostracized. No half breed can own land or become alpha. We
live on the outskirts of our pack, never fully accepted.”

Freedman curled his lip. “That’s just fucking stupid. Just because

you can change into more than one animal does not make you any less
a person than a full-blooded breed. I wish other changelings would
say something to you. I’ll beat the shit out of them.”

Omar blinked up at Freedman, feeling the tears prickling at his

eyes. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” The sad
truth was, Omar wasn’t lying. It wasn’t like his parents were
nurturing. He had no one in his life who would stand up for him the
way Freedman just proclaimed. Sure, he had Rick and the dominant
males in the pack to protect him from physical harm, but it wasn’t
their job to protect Omar from hurtful words.

Not like Freedman was doing.
He was getting hard at the fierce way Freedman’s nostrils were

flaring and the whole bang-on-his-chest manner in which he was

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acting. He had never had anyone say they would kick someone’s ass
for him.

Omar shrugged his shoulders, a small chuckle falling from his lips

when Freedman began to nibble at his ear. “That tickles.”

“We can find the bedroom section and I can see just how ticklish

you are.” Freedman’s hand tightened on Omar’s hip, and Omar could
feel something hard and long beneath him. What he wouldn’t give to
feel that steel cock pounding into him, but they needed to make sure
Salvador was—Omar gasped when he felt Salvador in his mind,
giving him wicked, wicked thoughts.

So, the man knew what he and Freedman were feeling. Normally

Omar would bristle at anyone messing around inside of him, but he
was relieved to know Salvador was finally coming back to them.

Mentally, Omar batted Salvador’s hands away. “Stop it before you

have me writhing like a harlot in front of everyone,” he said in a low
hiss.

“I like what he is thinking.” Freedman’s hands wandered to the

bulge in Omar’s jeans. How the hell was he supposed to keep both
men away? Salvador was seducing him mentally, Freedman
physically. The barrage was going to make Omar come in his pants.

“I am well, my destiny. I just need nourishment and rest.”
Omar swallowed and nodded, and then realized that Salvador

couldn’t see him. “Just make sure you get your strength back. I don’t
like seeing you this way.”

“Neither do I,” Freedman added.
“As I rest, I will try to come up with a solution to the Soul

Reapers.”

Omar curled tighter into Freedman’s side, shivering as he thought

of how Salvador had suffered through the battle. He hated the fact that
the vampire felt every blow, every slice that was inflicted on the
abominations—Salvador’s word, not his.

“You just get well,” Freedman said out loud, but both of them

were speaking to Salvador. “We’ll hold down the fort.”

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187

“Do not attack the labs until I am well. You will need all the help

you can get. I will not have my mates in harm’s way.”

“Buddy, I live in harm’s way,” Freedman said with conviction.

“But we’ll wait.”

“Thank you.” Salvador grew quiet.
“I better go tell Rick that Salvador wants everyone to wait for

him.” Omar stood, his erection gone since thinking of how hurt his
mate was. Crossing over to the other aisle, Omar found Rick looking
over the fishing equipment.

“I’ve always wanted to go fishing, but could never find the time,”

Rick murmured as he stared at a fishing rod singled out in a display
case. It looked like it cost a mint. The alpha shook his head. “There
were so many things I wanted to try out. I was just so busy working,
creating a place for our pack in the human world that my driving need
began to smother out my wants.”

Omar stood next to Rick. “Who’s to say you can’t do them all

once this war is over? I think we all are going to have to find a new
place we fit in. Nothing will be the same anymore.”

Rick turned and pierced Omar with his light-grey eyes. They were

heavy with sadness. “Isn’t that the truth.”

“Are you going to remain our alpha?” Omar hadn’t thought about

that. To him, Rick would always be his leader. There was no one else
he would want to rule the werewolf changeling pack.

Rick chucked Omar lightly on the chin. “The more important

question is, will you still remain in America once this is over?”

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Chapter Twenty

“Where are we going?” Dorian asked as Rick pulled him through

the outlet store. As Rick walked by one of the end caps, he grabbed a
bottle of olive oil.

“Three guesses, but I’m praying like hell you only need one.”

Rick bounced his eyebrows. “If you need more than one, I think we
need to have a serious talk.”

“Hmm, olive oil, rushing me to a secluded area, and your eyes are

glowing with flecks of yellow.” Dorian tapped his chin. “Cooking
lessons?”

Rick growled. “I’m going to dip my sausage in olive oil and place

it in your bun. Nothing fancy, no stove required.” Rick fought the
chuckle when Dorian gaped at him. Even after being together for over
a year, he could still shock his mate.

Yeah, baby. He still had it.
Rick spotted the perfect aisle. No one would look for them in the

pet section. He grabbed a fifty-pound bag of dog food and tossed it on
the floor. He did that three more times until he had a small, semi-
comfortable spot for Dorian to get on all fours.

His cock pulsed at the image already forming in his head. “Drop

your pants and then get on your knees.”

Dorian glared at him. “What, we’re an old fuddy-duddy couple

now so you don’t have to romance me any longer?” He crossed his
arms over his lean chest and leaned against the shelf. “I don’t think
so, Mr. Marcelo.” Dorian’s voice had dropped, going all wolf on
Rick.

Ooh, Dorian was pissed.

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189

Rick was turned on.
Placing the oil on a shelf, Rick moved close to Dorian, putting a

hand on either side of the man’s head. “My gatito wants romance?”
Rick dipped his head, placing a light kiss on Dorian’s temple. “Am I
neglecting you?”

Dorian’s Peruvian-brown eyes fluttered closed as Rick swept his

hand down to cup his mate’s ass. He rubbed his stubble jaw over
Dorian’s cheek, feeling the hairs rasp over his mate’s smooth skin.
“Have I forgotten what you mean to me, what I would die to protect?”
His own voice was a fierce whisper as he touched his fingertips to
Dorian’s chin.

“N–No,” Dorian said softly. “But I don’t want this to become just

an act to sate your lust.”

“If I ever”—Rick paused, glanced right into Dorian’s eyes—“then

you can hand me my ass on a silver platter.” Using his index finger
and thumb, Rick gave a small tug. “You are every fantasy come true
to me. My own personal wet dream. I get so excited to have you
sometimes that I snap the command, praying I don’t come before I
even get inside you.”

Dorian eyebrows shot up as he glanced at Rick and then the pallet

Rick had made. “Really?”

Rick brushed his hands down Dorian’s sides. “Hell yeah.” He

licked a long path from Dorian’s chin to his ear, pressing his lips
against the soft shell. “And I’m dying to bury my ten-inch cock inside
your tight little ass. So shut the fuck up, drop your goddamn pants,
and bend over.”

Dorian slapped Rick’s chest, but there was a grin on his face from

ear to ear. “That’s more like it.”

The man confused the hell out of Rick most days. Hadn’t he said

that to begin with? Shaking his head, Rick turned to watch Dorian
drop his pants. His mouth watered at the sight of his mate’s twin
globes. Rick had a sudden urge to bite.

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“I know that look, Rick. If you bite my ass, I’m going to kick you

in your balls.”

Rick chuckled as Dorian dropped to his knees, grimaced as he

tried to settle on the bags of dog food, and then wiggled his ass. “But
you can fuck it.”

“Oh, I definitely plan on doing that.” Rick grabbed the bottle of

oil and handed it to Dorian. “But first, I want to watch you get ready.”

Resting his arm on a shelf, Rick jumped and cursed when a

squeak toy broke the silence. Dorian began to laugh. Rick took the toy
and threw it across the aisle. Damn thing.

“I like toys, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to work,” he teased

Rick. “You’re not coming near me with that plastic bone.”

Rick narrowed his eyes. “Less talk and more stretching. I have a

real hard bone waiting for you.”

Dorian bit his lower lip and batted his eyes at Rick. “You are so

damn corny.” Dorian laughed. A low, wicked sound that had Rick’s
stomach clenching with a tight, hard punch of sensation. “But I’ll shut
up and shove my fingers clear up my ass.”

Good god, the man was out to kill him. He had to forcefully

restrain himself from tackling his mate and mounting him. But oddly
enough, all Rick wanted from Dorian was his touch. Stroking his
mate, hearing the soft sensual sounds of Dorian’s pleasure was worth
every damn thing Rick had to go through in this war, with Dorian’s
meltdown, and his own insecurities.

Before Dorian could use the oil, Rick batted the man’s hand aside.
“Let me show you how romantic I can be.”

* * * *

Rick nuzzled his neck, inhaling Dorian’s scent like the man was

trying to get air into starving lungs. Dorian could feel his hole
quivering as his mate nibbled at the tender flesh of his neck. Before
Dorian could stop the sounds from leaving his lips, he moaned and

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whined at the same time. God, he was so fucking needy. It seemed
like Rick was out to tease him into insanity.

“You are one fucking gorgeous man,” Rick murmured into his

ear, his warm breath tickling Dorian’s flesh.

Dorian felt his entire body flush at Rick’s words. He had never

had anyone think of him that way. Rick was the first and Dorian knew
no one could hold a candle to the man. His confession that Dorian
was his own personal wet dream felt so surreal. He knew how his
mate felt about him, but to hear those words still touched a part of him
that would always wonder why Rick chose him.

One big hand rubbed the round globes of his ass and Dorian damn

near came unglued. Just the lightest touch and his soul seemed to
merge with Rick’s. It was insane, but true. The bond between them
had grown so deep, that even when Dorian had felt like his life was
falling apart, he knew he could leave Rick. Just the thought of never
seeing the handsome man’s face again hurt like hell.

Dorian bit his lip to hold back any further pleas that were

struggling to tear from his lips. He loved hearing Rick talk to him like
he was the center of the guy’s universe.

“I’m going to fuck you until your legs no longer work and your

back is bent.” Rick murmured the dark and heated words.

Hell, Rick could have Dorian any way he wanted him. His dick

was pulsing out a beat, and Dorian knew he was close already.
“Anytime, big boy.”

Dorian’s eyelids fluttered closed. Having Rick choose him as a

mate still stumped Dorian at times—like now. Why would someone
who looked like Rick want him? Dorian was plain, small for a wolf,
and not someone who Rick should have picked as a mate.

No, someone like Rick should be with a model or something. Not

with a man who—wait, why was he doubting himself?

Rick continued to nuzzle at Dorian’s neck as he blanketed him

from nape to thighs, slowly grinding his denim-covered cock into
Dorian’s ass. The rush of sensation was like a high for Dorian—a

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good one, though. He loved the natural scent of his mate. Rick
smelled so freaking manly that Dorian’s teeth began to ache. He
wanted to eat the man up.

He damn near chewed his bottom lip off when Rick’s hand

reached under him and began to stroke Dorian’s cock. “Are you mine,
Dorian?”

There went that deep voice again. As long as the man continued to

talk to him in that husky, I’m-gonna-fuck-you tone, Dorian would be
whatever the man wanted him to be. “Yes.”

Rick’s hand slid down Dorian’s back, gripping his ass as he

pressed his cock harder into Dorian’s ass, and then his mate slid not
only his jeans down, but his boxers as well. All Dorian could do was
stare at perfection. From the light smattering of hair on Rick’s chest to
his well-toned thighs, the man was a god.

And the thick cock jutting out from a nest of black curls was

priceless to look at.

Dorian yelped when Rick dropped to his knees and stuck his nose

in Dorian’s ass. He had no idea what the man was doing, but Dorian’s
damn legs were shaking as he waited in anticipation.

All of a sudden, a wet tongue laved at his puckered hole, rimming

around the tight muscle as if Rick were making love with the
appendage. Never having been rimmed except by this expert, Dorian
knew he was addicted to Rick’s tongue as he fought back the cry that
would beg Rick to fuck him. He laid his chest on the bags then
reached behind him to spread his cheeks apart.

“Oh, hell, gatito. You look so tempting, so edible.”
“Glad you think so,” he stuttered, fighting for air. Dorian was

becoming mindless.

“And I’m going to show you.” Confidence and power filled

Rick’s voice, making Dorian quiver.

He rocked his hips up and down as Rick bathed his rear end in

moisture. His cockhead thumped the bags with his motions, leaving a
wet trail on the dog food. He sure as hell hoped no one bought this

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bag. Maybe taking the bag outside and dumping the food out would
be a good idea. Strays could eat and the bag—again with the damn
random thoughts.

Dorian quickly forgot what he was thinking as Rick licked harder

at his hole. Dorian’s fingers now itched to touch, to trace the contours
of the man who had him pinned to the floor.

A wild moan escaped when wet fingers played at his entrance then

slid inside his tight muscles, his ass sucking at Rick’s fingers in a
greedy fashion.

“I want to feel my cock sliding in here.”
“God, yes!” He was begging. So damn what.
Rick’s hand lay squarely between Dorian’s shoulder blades,

keeping him from moving as he fucked Dorian with the one, thick
finger. Dorian’s body shivered as he felt the finger graze over his
gland, bringing him pleasure from just that lone finger.

“You ready for more?”
Was his mate crazy? Of course Dorian wanted more. He lay there

panting, his cock growing impossibly harder as he fought to breathe.
Dorian wasn’t sure what Rick was doing, but fuck if he wasn’t about
to pass out.

His mate turned him over and engulfed his cock in one fell swoop.

Dorian screamed, bucking his hips and fucking Rick’s mouth. The
man was sucking him like a wet dream.

Rick nipped his balls then ran his tongue over the sting to soothe

it. Again and again he did this. Dorian was babbling like an idiot as
the moist heat from Rick’s mouth threatened to melt him on the
fucking aisle floor.

His mate continued to shove Dorian’s cock in and out of his

mouth, clamping a tight seal to draw the pre-cum out of his dick.
Dorian slapped his palms onto the floor, giving him momentum to
fuck Rick’s face. He could feel it, his balls drawing tighter, the
familiar tingle beginning to climb its way forward. It pooled at his
spine, and then inched its way up until his entire groin was dangling

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over the edge of the abyss.

Rick pulled back, sucking the head of Dorian’s cock, making

Dorian writhe on the bags.

“Rick,” Dorian shouted as bright colors exploded in front of his

eyes, shooting him past the moon and to another galaxy, his hips
erratically pumping into that hot, sweet mouth. Rick drank him down
until the last drop, letting his softened cock slip from his lips.

Dorian lay there in a daze. There wasn’t anything else he could

do. Rick had sucked the energy right out of him.

“My turn, baby.” Rick gazed down at Dorian as he hovered,

taking his lips in a gentle kiss. Dorian moaned as he wrapped his arms
around Rick’s neck, pulling the large man closer. Rick’s tongue
probed at Dorian’s lips until he parted them. His mate’s tongue
swooped in, tasting Dorian, possessing him. He was nothing more
than putty in the guy’s hands.

Dorian pulled his lips from Rick, gazing up into the man’s light-

grey eyes. They were swimming in heat and desire…and love. Dorian
would never tire of seeing his mate look at him that way. “Fuck me,
Rick. I want you.”

“I’m going to come in your hot, tight ass,” Rick whispered into

Dorian’s ear.

He swallowed hard and nodded, spreading his legs wide, inviting

Rick to take what he wanted. Dorian would give his mate whatever he
needed if the man would just fuck him. He was so desperate that he
wasn’t above begging—and in fact, had.

A large hand brushed over Dorian’s skin as Rick settled between

his legs. Dorian quickly wrapped his legs around his mate, pushing
toward him before Rick had his cock in his hand, guiding the erection
toward Dorian’s pulsing hole. He felt his heart racing as one fast
thrust buried the thick, steel-hard erection into Dorian’s body to the
hilt.

He cried out, his hands moving to grip Rick’s slamming hips. He

could see the hunger building in the man’s eyes. They were dark,

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feral, and directed solely at Dorian. Rick drove against Dorian harder,
deeper, one hard hand spanning Dorian’s hip as his lover held him
still. The other hand was under Dorian’s shoulder, arching his body
toward Rick’s devouring mouth.

Dorian was bucking against Rick, arching desperately, begging

for his release. The bunched muscles in Rick’s forearms turned to
granite as he pulled Dorian toward him and Dorian willingly went. He
was now sitting on Rick’s lap, being lifted over and over again.

“I love you so much, gatito.”
Dorian didn’t have the brain capability at the moment to respond.

Not when he was being impaled on Rick’s long, thick ten-inch cock.

It was too much for Dorian as Rick’s hand snaked between their

sweat-slick bodies and enveloped his straining cock and pumped hard.
Dorian threw his head back and let out a barely audible sound as hot
ribbons of cum began to pulsate from his cock.

Dorian wailed when Rick changed angles and his sweet spot was

struck over and over again. He jerked and shuddered as his cock tried
to keep up with Rick’s aggressive demands. Dorian growled, biting
into Rick’s shoulder, claiming him as Rick thrust harder.

Rick’s cock thrust into his ass a few more times before he felt the

hot spurt of seed filling him. He shuddered, hating that this was over.
He never wanted to leave Rick’s side. If only his mate could stay
buried in him forever.

* * * *

Rick sat with his back to the shelf as he watched Dorian sleep. He

raised his hand to finger a strand of his mate’s hair where it lay
against his cheek. It had grown long in the past few months. As he
slid the silky strand between his fingers, Rick thought about how
much his life had changed.

They were almost on the last leg of their journey, and Rick knew

the pressure and stress were getting to his mate. The weariness in

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Dorian’s eyes hadn’t faded. He could tell the man was still fighting to
stay sane.

Little did anyone know, but Rick was growing weary as well. This

was not a life he would have chosen for either of them. He had been
unsure in the beginning, and as he sat in this dark aisle, he still felt
like he wasn’t the right man for the job.

“Will we ever have a normal life?” Dorian asked, although his

eyes remained closed.

“That’s what we are fighting for, gatito.” Although lately Rick

was losing sight of his goal. He was born to be an alpha, but he wasn’t
cut out to be a leader of the Rebellions. He was filled with too many
doubts and not enough solutions. The strength needed to keep moving
forward was slowly dwindling inside of him.

Rick just wanted to take his mate home and forget the world

outside existed. Was he a bad man for wanting something so simple,
yet so far out of his reach?

Dorian sighed and glanced up at Rick, his Peruvian-brown eyes

filled with warmth and understanding. “Let’s finish this war so we
can go home and start our life together.”

Taking Dorian’s hand in his, Rick kissed the man’s knuckles. “In

this together until the end.”

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Chapter Twenty-One

Freedman breathed away his fury. This was not going to be a

cakewalk—doable, but not easy. “The labs are not close to each other,
but still close enough for an orchestrated attack.”

Rick slipped leather gloves over his hands, stretched his fingers,

and turned to look off in the direction Freedman had been looking.
“Has any of this been easy? After all the hell we’ve been through, this
shouldn’t make us sweat.”

“Well, I can feel the moisture in my underwear,” Benito said as he

lowered the binoculars. “Because those aren’t any kind of labs I’ve
ever seen before.”

It was true. There weren’t any guard dogs or high fences, but the

place looked state of the art. He had a feeling it was going to be
harder getting into those two buildings than it was infiltrating any of
the detention centers. And with Salvador not one-hundred percent,
Freedman refused to allow the man to use any of his freaky-deaky
powers.

They had nothing but human and changeling strength on their side

now. Although they did have the coven. They were damn good in a
fight. But the problem with that plan was the fact that it was broad
daylight out. They needed to scout the buildings and see what they
were up against. Rick had said he was sending in Miguel and Benito.
The two weren’t on anyone’s radar.

Sometimes an unexpected ambush worked better than a full

frontal attack.

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“Okay, do you want us to go in now?” Miguel asked as he pulled

his shoulder holster off and handed it off to Freedman. “I have a suit
in the back of the truck.”

“You are just going into the lobby and ask the desk man for

directions, Miguel. Nothing fancy,” Rick warned. “All we need to
know is how well the place is monitored.”

“Trust me.” Miguel gave Rick a smile. “I know how to act lost

and misguided.”

“It wouldn’t be an act,” Sasha murmured.
“At least he doesn’t cough up fur balls,” Benito defended his

cousin.

Sasha hissed.
Benito laughed.
Freedman watched the two enforcers and wondered if he’d ever

be able to find the peace during chaos that these two seemed to have
found. The fact that the two could laugh and joke around amazed him.

“What do you do if anyone thinks they recognize you?” Rick

asked, no humor in his features or his tone.

Benito sobered. “We haul ass until either we’re clear or caught.”
“Try not to get caught,” Freedman said. “I’m not really sure where

they would take you considering the detention centers are no more.”

“Don’t get caught,” Rick said, emphasizing each word.
Benito saluted him. “Aye, aye, alpha.”
Freedman curled his lips in when he saw the glare Rick aimed

toward the cousins. Miguel and Benito quickly changed into jeans and
T-shirts, both sporting a backpack. If Freedman didn’t know the two,
he would think them college students.

He wasn’t surprised when both men shoved a small handgun into

their back waistband and then covered the steel with their shirts. It
only reminded him that—although they just had a few laughs—things
were serious as fuck.

“Keep your time there to a minimum. Scope out the monitors

behind the desk and the layout of the lobby. Once you take all that in,

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get the hell out of there.” Rick shoved Benito’s shoulder holster into
the front seat of the truck. “I expect both of you back here within
thirty minutes.”

The two gave a firm nod and then headed out of the parking

garage and strode across the street.

* * * *

Miguel walked into the fancy lobby. The floors were made of

marble, and he instantly spotted three cameras on the door, giving the
viewer different angles. He smiled politely as he walked up to the
security desk.

“Good afternoon.”
The guard glanced up, but gave Miguel a narrowed-eyed look.

Great, a guard with a stick up his ass. “What do you need?”

“I was wondering if you could—” Miguel placed his hand over his

stomach, grimacing. “Damn tacos. They do it to me every time.”

The guard just stared at Miguel with an impatient scowl.
“Do you have a bathroom?”
“This isn’t a public place.” The human glanced back down at his

desk, thoroughly dismissing Miguel.

“Seriously, dude. If I don’t get to a bathroom soon, you’re going

to have to sit here and…” He bent a little lower. “Chicken Cascadia. It
tastes good, but it’s some bad shit on the stomach.”

The guard glanced at Miguel as if studying him really hard.

Miguel placed an arm on the counter, his stomach making a weird
noise. He really wasn’t lying. He knew better than to eat the crap.

Pointing over his shoulder, the guard wrinkled his noise. “First

door on the left, just past the bank of elevators.” He tapped the
monitors. “Don’t try anything. I’ll be watching you.”

“Hopefully not too closely,” Miguel replied as he took off toward

the bathroom. When the door closed behind him, Miguel quickly
unzipped his backpack and unscrewed the lid on the Imodium. He

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chucked it down and then tossed the blue bottle back in the bag. He
really needed to learn about eating Chicken Cascadia.

“Now to find out what we’re up against.” He took in the bathroom

and spotted a large air vent over one of the stalls. There was a cabinet
under the sink, so Miguel stuffed his bag under there, but not before
removing his digital camera.

He pulled his cell phone out and quickly texted Benito.

I’m in.

A second later Benito texted Miguel back with the same. He

shoved the phone down in his pocket and hurried into the stall,
knowing he was on a time crunch. Rick wanted him back in thirty and
the guard would give him maybe eight minutes. After that, he would
either come to check things out or send someone else to look.

Miguel used the small utility knife set he had stored in his pocket

and unscrewed the vent. Quietly setting it inside, he jumped up and
slid through. He came to a stop when he spotted another vent.

The building was large, but in circumference rather than height.

The place only had two floors. He wasn’t sure about a basement,
though. Gazing through the grate, Miguel pulled his camera to his
face and began to snap pictures, and then he moved on to the next
grate. He kept an eye on the time.

If Rick knew he was doing this, his alpha would skin him alive.

But Miguel knew scoping the lobby wouldn’t get them the
information they truly needed. He hurried along the air duct, snapping
a few pictures as he went along, memorizing the layout so he could
match photos with rooms.

He glanced at his watch and saw that he had four minutes left.

That would give him enough time to get to the last grate, take the
pictures, and haul ass back to the bathroom.

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As Miguel approached the last grate, he heard strange whining

noises. The pitch would rise up, and then fade away. What the hell?
He moved closer, raising his camera to his face, and then froze.

“Get him strapped down!” someone out of sight said.
The camera slowly lowered. He watched as a male changeling

fought to get free. Miguel knew he was changeling because he could
scent jaguar.

He could also smell the overwhelming scent of fear.
“If he shifts, he’ll be harder to contain,” the voice yelled again.

“Use a tranquilizer gun.”

Razor wire twisted in Miguel’s gut as he watched the poor jaguar

fight the two guards and one lab personnel. If there was one place he
couldn’t break down, it was here. Miguel was fighting his instinct to
protect the weak. The jaguar may be a predator, but what those
humans were doing was downright cruel and malicious. He wanted to
bust through the grate and kill everyone in the room—except the
jaguar.

The changeling slumped over, and that was when he saw the

needle in the lab guy’s hand. He felt the changeling, knew he was
feeling alone and scared. Miguel fought not to howl, to tell the man he
wasn’t alone.

But he couldn’t. He had to wait until they attacked the building.

Miguel may win the fight in this small room, but he wouldn’t be able
to take down everyone in the building. The Rebellion group was
coming back after dark, when most employees would be gone for the
day, reducing their chances of getting caught. It also reduced the
number of people they would have to kill.

Miguel didn’t want to leave the young male.
Glancing at his watch, Miguel cursed.
He had been gone ten minutes.
“I’ll be back for you,” he whispered before hurrying away, racing

toward the bathroom. He wasn’t too sure how thorough the guard
was, but he didn’t want to find out.

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He saw the opening ahead of him. Miguel hurried along, keeping

as quiet as he could. There wasn’t much room for him to move, but he
slithered along at top speed. His heart skidded to a halt when he heard
someone in the bathroom.

Miguel waited just inside the grate, his breath trapped in his lungs.

He prayed like hell Benito had made it out. The faucet turned on and
he heard the water running.

Come on, get out of here.
When the door opened and then closed, Miguel sprang into action,

jumping from the vent and quickly screwing it back into place. Just as
he dropped down, the door opened again.

“You die in here?”
It was the guard who had allowed him to use the bathroom.

Miguel wiped the sweat from his face with the bottom of his T-shirt
and cursed when he saw dirt all over the front. There was no way he
could walk out like this. “Not yet, but I think the chicken just might
win.”

The guard snorted and then walked back out. Miguel breathed a

sigh of relief that he hadn’t been busted as he left the stall and went
for the cabinet. He had an extra shirt in his backpack. He could just
tell the guard he accidently splashed water all over himself.

When Miguel opened the cabinet, it was empty.
Where in the hell was his bag?
This was not good.
Whoever had come in here before he exited the air duct must have

taken it, but Miguel hadn’t seen the man’s face. He had been too
worried about getting caught. If Rick found out that Miguel had
shoved all the contact numbers and websites’ passwords in his bag,
the alpha was going to lose it.

Miguel may even lose his damn head.
Some enforcer I’m turning out to be.
He had only put them in there because hell if Miguel could

memorize all that information. Rick had told him to destroy it. He had

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said that it was too dangerous to keep. And Miguel had just handed it
all over to some faceless stranger.

He cracked the door, peeking out and immediately saw a camera

pointing toward the elevators. He debated on whether or not to track
the person down, maybe ask the guard casually who had been in the
bathroom, but even to Miguel that sounded weird and perverted.

He was going to have to tell Rick he had majorly fucked up.
Shoving the small digital camera into his front pocket, Miguel

walked out of the bathroom and headed toward the front door.

“Hey!” the guard shouted.
Miguel had an urge to run. What if the person who had taken his

bag had given it to the guard? Instead, he slowly turned, pasting on a
big smile. “Yes?”

The guard moved from behind the desk and came toward Miguel,

a deep scowl on his face. Miguel glanced outside and then back at the
guard, debating on what he should do.

The portly man stopped in front of him, and Miguel broke out in a

cold sweat.

“What did you come in here for?”
Miguel’s mind swirled and whirled until he knew why the guard

was asking him the question. He just prayed like he never prayed
before that the man didn’t notice the lack of a backpack. “Oh, I
needed directions.”

“Okay, where do you need to go?”
To the lab where the jaguar is being held. “I need to get to the

airport.”

Miguel stood there and listened to the man give him directions,

giving a nod here and there as if he were really paying attention. He
wasn’t. The only thing Miguel wanted to do was get the hell out of
there.

“Got it?” the guard asked.
Miguel repeated the instructions. He may not have been paying

attention, but he had heard the man.

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“Good luck.”
Waving good-bye, he headed out of the large glass door. He was

never happier to suck in the fresh air.

But he was terrified of what Rick was going to do to him.
Quickly crossing the street, Miguel wormed his way around a few

buildings and then backtracked to the parking garage. Rick and the
others were waiting for him. Benito was even there.

Miguel was relieved his cousin hadn’t been caught.
“You’re over your allotted time,” Rick said as Miguel approached

the truck.

“Stomach problems.” What else could he say? Rick could smell a

lie. His stomach had really been gurgling and protesting.

“You stopped to take a shit?” Rick asked in disbelief.
“A quick one.” Reaching into his pants, Miguel handed over his

camera. “I also took the time to take some pictures.”

Rick snatched the camera from Miguel’s hand. “Benito already

told me. I’ll deal with you two later.”

Miguel opened his mouth to tell Rick about the backpack, but

Benito gave a slight shake of his head and then lowered his arm,
pointing his finger toward the truck.

“The papers are in the truck,” Benito mouthed.
Miguel wasn’t sure how his cousin knew what he was about to

say, but was extremely thankful the man had stopped him.

But he still needed to find out who had stolen his bag…and why.

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Chapter Twenty-Two

“Just because I am not fully healed right now does not mean I

cannot help,” Salvador argued. He was not about to sit on his ass
while his mates risked their lives. The two had to be certifiably insane
if they thought he was going to take a nap while they broke into two
labs ran by sadistic humans.

“All I’m saying is you need to take it easy and not use any of your

powers.” Freedman leaned against the truck, his arms tucked over his
chest. He could see the stubborn lines on his mate’s face and the
determination in his blue eyes. Freedman wasn’t going to easily back
down.

But neither was he.
“What if you try to mentally help us and it backfires?” Omar

asked.

“It will not backfire.” Salvador kept his voice steady as he worked

his way through the implication of his words. He knew the risks.
Omar was right, even if he was just guessing. If Salvador was
attacked before fully recovering, there was no telling what long-
lasting damage he may suffer.

But these two were his mates. He would risk it all to keep them

safe. Why couldn’t they see this?

“You don’t know that for sure.” Freedman sounded like he was on

the edge of his control.

“Please,” Omar begged. “Don’t risk yourself.”
Salvador could give the same argument about the two going into

danger, but after what Miguel had told them about the jaguar, he

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couldn’t be that selfish. When he spoke, his voice was husky and soft.
“I will not do anything to harm myself, meu destino.”

“Why do I have a feeling that statement is riddled with

loopholes?” Freedman asked as he pushed away from the truck. “No
mind powers, Salvador.”

“Do not speak to me in that manner!” Salvador took in a deep

breath, reminding himself he was speaking to his mate. Freedman
meant him no disrespect. He knew this. But he was just as worried
about them as they were about him.

“What, like I care?” Freedman asked.
“No, like I am a child who needs supervision.”
“Maybe because you’re acting like one,” Freedman shot at him.
“Whoa,” Omar said as he slapped one hand on Freedman’s chest,

the other on Salvador’s. “Let’s all calm down.”

Salvador pivoted on his heel and headed toward his coven, who

were waiting for him on the other side of the garage. He needed the
space and some air. Freedman was infuriating as hell, making
Salvador angrier the longer he spoke to the man.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!”
Salvador’s steps slowed when he heard the almost undetectable

strain of fear in Freedman’s tone. To hear it coming from Freedman
took Salvador by surprise. He had never seen his mate vulnerable
before. He had never seen Freedman anything but fierce and ready for
battle.

From his mate’s throat came a low, anguished pain that raised the

hairs on the back of Salvador’s neck. He pushed inside Freedman’s
mind and he could see the ashes of a washed-out dream float to its
feet, and in the deepest, most hidden core of Freedman’s soul, his
mate cried.

“What is this?” Salvador asked on a whisper.
Freedman stood there magnificent and proud, but Salvador could

see his mate’s entire body slightly trembling. “Don’t you dare walk
away from me.” The look on Freedman’s face made Salvador’s heart

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squeeze. The quicksilver lights in Freedman’s eyes dimmed until they
were dull echoes against the darkness.

Salvador heard the words, but somehow he knew it wasn’t him

Freedman was talking to. It was a ghost from the man’s past coming
forth to haunt him. “I would never leave your side, meu guerreiro
forte.”

Freedman roughly swallowed. “You can’t allow yourself to die.”
Salvador opened his mouth to tell Freedman he would do as he

damn well pleased, but then closed it. He could see how important
this was to his mate. It was so important that Freedman was showing
Salvador something that he was quite sure no other had seen before.

He gave a low and sweeping bow. “You have my word of honor

that I will not engage in battle this evening.”

Freedman’s features marginally relaxed as he gave a tight nod and

then turned, walking back toward the Rebellion group.

Salvador stood there, unsure of what to think.
“My Lord.”
Salvador gave one last glance toward Freedman before giving his

coven the attention they were asking for. He watched his coven’s
expressions turn uncertain.

“How will we conquer our enemy if you do not engage in battle?”

one of the men asked.

He still felt a bit stunned by not only Freedman’s outburst, but the

fear he felt inside his mate. “By your honed skills as seasoned
warriors.”

“But—” The man stopped speaking when Salvador held up his

hand.

“If you go into battle with doubts, your enemy has already won.

Go in knowing you have fought many battles and still stand before
me. I have given you all the fighting skills you will need.”

The man bowed his head. “And I thank you for the special gift

you bestowed upon me, My Lord.”

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Although Salvador heard the man, his thoughts were still with

Freedman. They had had a simple spat, yet Salvador felt like he
needed to apologize. As he searched his memory, he couldn’t think of
one occasion where he had asked anyone for forgiveness.

Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, Salvador strode over to

where his mates were standing, quietly talking with one another. Why
did he all of a sudden feel like an outsider? Salvador didn’t like sitting
on the sidelines. That wasn’t who he was or something he had ever
done before.

But he had given his word.
“Stop looking like you lost your best friend.”
Salvador gazed at Omar, feeling a smile tug at his mouth. The

man was standing there, blue eyes sparkling, and a smile on his face.
“I have been regulated to the small children’s table.” Salvador made it
sound so terribly punishing.

Omar chuckled. “I like the kids’ table. The conversation is a hell

of a lot more interesting.”

Salvador’s gaze flickered over to Freedman. The man still looked

a bit unsettled, but more relaxed. His composure was back in place as
his deep, penetrating blue eyes studied Salvador. He felt as if the man
could see right through him.

“Am I in the…” Salvador paused, waving his hand in a short

measure in front of him, trying his best to remember how the
Americans phrased it. He cleared his throat, trying to sound strong,
but knew the bottom was going to fall out if he didn’t fix this.

“Doghouse,” Freedman filled in for him.
Salvador scrunched his nose. “Why would you Americans put the

ones you love in a house where your pets sleep?”

Freedman and Omar began cracking up. “It’s an idiom,”

Freedman said, his eyes filled with merriment. Salvador had never
seen the man more handsome, not even when they had sex. Freedman
was in his natural state, being himself, and Salvador felt his chest
tighten as he stared at his mate’s muscles rippling under his dark shirt.

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Salvador wanted to bite the man’s well-developed biceps. They
rounded to perfection and stretched the shirt he was wearing, making
the fabric seem a size too small. His eyes wandered to Freedman’s flat
abdomen, remembering how damn mouthwatering the ridges
appeared when his mate was naked…and his cock—Salvador
shuddered.

“Salvador?” Omar said his name questioningly, but the sides of

his lips were twitching, a devilish smile fighting not to break free.
“Why in the hell do I smell your horniness?”

Freedman’s dark eyebrows arched, a knowing gleam in his eyes.
“That discussion will wait until the two of you have returned.”

And then he was going to fuck both of them to within an inch of their
lives.

Freedman ran his hand over his flat stomach, Salvador closely

watching the movement. “I think he wants my body.” It was a teasing
statement.

“And you would be correct,” Salvador said, his body stiff with

need. Freedman looked more than capable of single-handedly
bringing down an entire army, but in Salvador’s eyes, the man was
nothing short of a god.

Omar glanced between them, and a seductive smile spread across

his face. “If you two don’t stop staring at each other like you want to
pounce, we’ll never get out of here.”

Salvador shot his eyes to his smaller mate. The man was compact

and sinewy, with silky blond hair and dazzling blue eyes. He was a
masterpiece in perfection from his tempting lips down to his well-
honed legs. Salvador’s blood pressure had raised a few notches as he
thought about how Omar had fucked him into completion.

“I don’t think he’s listening,” Freedman said. “Now he looks like

he wants to chase you down and fuck you silly.”

Omar’s cheeks reddened. “He can do that…after we get back.”
“Let’s move out!” Enrique shouted over to them.
Freedman gave him a long look.

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“I will not engage in battle, but I will be watching you two

through your minds.”

“Fair enough,” Freedman said. “But if I feel you using your

powers…” He trailed off from finishing his warning. “Do you have
faith?”

Salvador stood tall. “In the war, no. In you, unquestioningly.”
Freedman nodded and turned, heading toward the group of men

gearing up to take down two labs and rescue whoever they found. His
mate began to talk with the others, and Salvador found himself
watching him intently.

“We’ll be safe.”
Salvador pulled Omar close, knowing his mate meant what he

said, but feared fate would contradict the man. He prayed his mates
made it out of there.

And he prayed he didn’t break his promise.

* * * *

Nate glanced at the Shadow, feeling the hair on his neck stand.

The man was creepy as hell. It was also strange standing next to
someone he had tried to kill.

“Can’t you…unshadow yourself?” he asked. He had never seen

anyone who looked…shadowy before. It was like the man was there,
but there was a fine mist all around him, stopping anyone from seeing
him fully.

“Trust me. You do not want the full weight of my appearance.”
Okay, he was going to take the vampire’s word on that one. Ever

since meeting Salvador and his men, Nate wasn’t sure what to think.
The Shadow still smelled like a damn graveyard, though.

He had gotten used to Salvador’s scent. The man didn’t smell like

dried leaves anymore.

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Rick placed his hands on his hips, his face stern. “I want Nate,

Sasha, Selene, and Benito on one team. Miguel, Dorian, Freedman,
and Omar, come with me.”

“Can I have the Shadow?” Nate asked. The man may be a strange

character, but he had seen how the creature moved. He wanted
someone like that on his team.

“Since you only have four men, yes. Salvador has given his coven

instructions, so we don’t need to worry about them.” Rick pointed at
Nate. “But don’t give them any shit.”

“Why would I do that?”
Rick scowled at him. “Because I’ve known you too long.”
Nate chuckled. “I am who I am.”
“I have a team member who can scale walls,” Sasha bantered.

“What do you have, Rick?”

“Weapons, a fucked-up attitude, and a guy who can shift into a

shitload of breeds.” Rick smirked.

“How did I get drawn into this?” Omar asked.
“Can we go?” Selene asked. “I’m tired of watching you guys

measure your dicks.” She walked away.

“Mine is the biggest,” Sasha said with confidence as he followed

their mate. Nate just shook his head. He wasn’t going to confirm
Sasha’s boast, even if it was true.

They were taking the building on the left. Benito had scouted this

one. Rick might have been pissed, but Nate was glad the junior
enforcer had taken pictures. He had a better idea of what he was
dealing with.

Nate and his group waited on the side of the building as the

vampires from Salvador’s coven took care of the cameras and alarms.
He wasn’t sure how they were doing it, but he had to admit having the
vampires on his side came in pretty handy.

Of course, he would never admit that out loud or say that about

other vampires. Salvador’s coven was an exception to the rule.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Omar could feel Salvador in his head, and the feeling was weird

as hell. It was like having a second set of eyes, only he couldn’t see
out of Salvador’s.

“Freedman and Omar, I want you to sweep the left side of the

building, both floors. Dorian and I will do the same for the right side.
Miguel, keep an eye on things. Radio us if trouble shows up.” Rick
gripped the rifle in his hands as he and his mate walked away, and
then rounded a corner.

“Which lab was it?” Freedman asked Miguel, and Omar knew his

mate was talking about the jaguar.

“The last lab on the first floor.”
As Omar followed his mate, he prayed they didn’t discover any

more labs, detention centers, or other places changelings were being
taken to and tortured. This recon work was hell on his nerves. He had
only sat by and waited when the first detention center was penetrated,
and Omar had been shot in the leg. He had only been riding in the
back of the truck when Rick and the rest of the men had tried to get
away from the Breed Hunters, and he had received a flesh wound.
And he was only helping Freedman when he was captured and taken
to the last remaining detention center.

It seemed he needed to stop helping and taking a more active role

in fighting. Helping was getting him fucked up.

Omar moved until he was in the lead.
“What are you doing?” Freedman whispered low enough to allow

only Omar’s changeling hearing to pick the words up.

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“Proactive, buddy.” He held the gun tight in his hand with a death

grip. Omar wasn’t used to using a gun. He was used to being shot, but
not shooting. His personal preference was claws and teeth, but this
situation called for bullets.

Freedman grabbed Omar’s arm in a tight grip. “You can be

proactive behind me. I’m not risking—” Freedman fell silent when
the sound of footsteps was growing louder, heading their way.

Omar and Freedman quickly moved, heading into the room

closest to them. His mate shut the door, and then pushed Omar behind
him. He held his breath, listening as the footsteps sounded like they
were right outside the door.

And then whoever it was stopped.
“Be very careful.”
Omar didn’t answer Salvador. He couldn’t. He could scent—

Omar felt his insides still when he recognized the scent as werewolf.
Did the scent belong to a captive or were they betrayed once more?

“Come out, come out wherever you are.”
That answered his question.
Freedman stiffened beside him, grabbing Omar’s hand in his.

Omar inhaled a little deeper. He knew that scent from somewhere. He
racked his brain, but nothing was coming to him. Omar would bet his
life he knew that scent.

“He will die if he touches you.”
“You promised,” Omar mentally reminded Salvador. He could

hear the frustrated grunt coming from the vampire, but Salvador said
no more.

“If you do not come out, I will send someone in there for you.”
Omar glanced around and spotted a door on the other side of the

room. He tapped Freedman on his shoulder and pointed to their
possible escape. They were moving quickly, his mate leading the way.
Just as they reached the door, the door to the room crashed opened.
Freedman shoved Omar into the opening before firing his gun.

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It was an attached room. Omar quickly ran, hurrying toward the

door. It was on the opposite side of the hallway where the bad guys
were, so they should be able to get free. Omar glanced over his
shoulder as he made it to the other side of the room and felt like his
stomach had just been punched.

The air left his lungs and Omar stumbled, falling over the table

close to the door, and then crashed to the floor. He pushed up to
scramble to his feet, Freedman helping him. They got out of the room
and raced down the hallway.

It seemed their presence here was no longer a secret.
“Why aren’t they chasing us?” he asked as they rounded a corner.

Omar couldn’t hear one single footstep aside from his and
Freedman’s.

“Beats me, but I’m guessing Salvador’s vampires took care of

them.”

“And you would be correct in your assumption.”
They searched the first couple of rooms, coming up empty. Omar

was beginning to realize there were more rooms than Miguel had
thought. Some didn’t have air vents, but wall vents to recirculate the
air. But what bothered him the most was the fact someone knew they
was here yet he and Freedman were able to search unhindered.

Something wasn’t right.
He ran his hand over his short hair, worried that this was a trap. It

wouldn’t be the first time they were betrayed by someone they knew,
and the search was going a little too smoothly. It shouldn’t be, but it
was. Not that he was inviting trouble, but if someone knew they were
here, they should be running for their lives, not headed to the lab at
the end of the hall.

“I’m not getting a good feeling about this,” Freedman said as they

checked the next room. “I understand it’s after hours and I’ve never
been to a place like this before, but I’m pretty damn sure it shouldn’t
be this deserted.”

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“I was thinking along the same lines,” Omar said. “If someone

knows we are here, why isn’t this place flooded with military, or at
the very least, Breed Hunters?”

“That’s a goddamn good question.”
Omar felt a surge of pride in the mate fate had given him.

Freedman was such a badass. He didn’t just talk a good game, but
backed up his hard-core persona with action. His insides fluttered at
how brave the man was.

Why in the hell am I thinking that?
Omar’s eyes widened when his arms began to tingle. Oh hell, not

now. Why did his body decide to shift into yet another breed at this
very moment? It had to be a new breed because he didn’t ever
remember feeling this way before a shift. He cleared his throat, trying
to relieve the itching sensation that had begun. It was a slight
scratching sensation, but irritating as hell.

What he feared the most was the gentle signals his body was

giving him. He was starting to see a pattern. When he was shifting
into a predator, the transition was painful as hell. But when he had
shifted into a deer, it was just uncomfortable.

He was about to change into prey.
“Freedman,” Omar said in a low tone. He wanted to warn his

mate. To tell him they needed to get out of there. He would be of no
help if he changed into something nonlethal.

“Shhh,” Freedman said. “I think I hear something.
Omar began to scratch his arms as he cleared his throat again. His

body temperature was rising. He knew this because he was beginning
to sweat profusely. His heart was beating so fast that Omar felt light-
headed and dizzy.

Why in the hell was his heart beating so fast? What animal could

he be changing into that had such a high heart rate?

Freedman grabbed his hand and then glanced back at him, his face

alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“S–Shift.”

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“Not now, Omar. Please, not now.”
It wasn’t like he had planned this. It was the last thing he wanted

to do.

“Hold strong, meu destino. You can make it. Just concentrate on

the lab at the end of the hall. Get inside there and finish your shift.”

Freedman grabbed Omar, tossing him over the strong man’s

shoulders as his mate hurried to the closest room. It wasn’t the lab at
the end of the hall, but Omar was past caring right now. He needed
air. He was thirsty as hell. And he was burning up.

“Come on, baby. I need you with me here.” Freedman cleared a

table off with one swoop of his arm and laid Omar down. He pressed
his hand to Omar’s head. “Go ahead and shift.”

“N–No.”
“There isn’t much we can do about it now. We’re fucked. So shift,

baby, and then we’ll figure a way out of this.” Freedman leaned
closer. “You know as well as I do that this is a setup. We need to
abort this damn mission and haul ass, but I need you on your feet.”

Omar stopped fighting and let the shift take over. It wasn’t a

painful transition, but everything in the room seemed to grow as he
shrunk.

He was getting smaller.
Way smaller.
“Oh,” Freedman said as he stared at Omar, his brown brows high

on his forward as his lips rounded. “You’re a…a bunny.”

Omar was ready to pass out. A fucking bunny? Thank the stars

Nate—or any other predatory changeling—wasn’t here right now.

“Okay, no big deal.” Freedman scooped Omar up from the table,

but Omar could hear the freaked-out tone the man was trying to hide.
“This might work to our advantage.”

No big deal?
He fought Freedman when the man tried to stuff Omar in his

backpack. He wasn’t a cute little fucking bunny. He was a damn
werewolf changeling!

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“For now, you are a bunny. Stop fighting him and get out of there.

We will work on the problem once you are free.”

Omar settled down, but he was fuming mad. They needed to find

a cure for him. He was sick and tired of shifting into other breeds.
This was worse than the deer! When Freedman swung the bag onto
his back, Omar felt like he was going to be sick from the motion.

“Just stay hidden and we’ll get the hell out of here. I’ll call Rick

once we’ve cleared the building.”

Omar was grateful that Freedman didn’t zip the bag. It was bad

enough he had to ride inside of it, but he didn’t want to feel caged. He
had had enough of that from his capture. Omar never wanted to be
trapped anywhere again.

“Hold it right there.”
Freedman stopped walking, and Omar damn near passed out.

There were caught. This was it. He was going to die a bunny. How
freaking dishonorable was that?

“Where’s the smaller man who was with you?”
The backpack raised and lowered as Freedman shrugged. “Beats

me.”

“Do not move a hair.”
Omar wasn’t sure if Salvador was truly trying to protect him or

make fun of him. Whatever the case was, Omar stayed still, trying to
not even breathe. But it was hard considering his bunny form’s heart
rate was off the charts.

“I want you to walk to that lab down the hall. If you try anything,

I swear to god I will shoot you.”

Freedman began to move.
Omar began to pray.
He knew this had been a setup, but he was too concerned with

freeing the changelings. Why was it every time he was helpful, he got
into trouble? That seemed to be the strange pattern lately. If he was a
negative man, he would start telling everyone to go to hell when they
wanted him to help.

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The sound of a door opening and then closing could be heard, and

then Omar smelled werewolf changeling again. It was driving him
crazy that he couldn’t place that familiar scent. He was so tempted to
look that he had to force himself to stay in the bottom of the bag.

“There is a shifter scent with him. Check the bag.” This voice

wasn’t the one he had heard in the hallway. This once belonged to the
traitor.

Omar fought against the hand trying to pull him from the bag.
“Leave him the hell alone!” Freedman shouted.
“Fight me and I’ll shoot you,” the voice from the hallway said.
Omar wiggled as much as he could, but the hand seized him and

began to pull him free. He wanted to bite the bastard, but he feared
the human would throw him against a wall or something more lethal.
He needed his wits about him, so he kept his mouth closed.

“He’s got a bunny in his backpack,” the human said as he pulled

Omar free of the bag.

“That’s not an ordinary bunny, Dr. Oswego. He’s a shifter.”
Omar turned toward the nagging scent and would have gasped if

he wasn’t a bunny.

Standing before him was Rick’s supposed-to-be-dead nephew.
Alexander Marcelo.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Salvador cursed when he not only read Omar’s thoughts, but felt

both of his mates’ fear. He exited the garage, walking toward the lab.
He was not going to break his promise, but Salvador was not going to
stand by and allow his mates to be captured either.

Searching out Enrique’s mind, Salvador pushed into it, giving the

alpha the images he had seen through Omar’s eyes. He felt the
werewolf stagger, a no falling from his lips. Salvador gave the man
the location where Freedman and Omar were being held, and then
pulled from Enrique’s mind.

As Salvador had stood in the garage, he had come to a realization

that—ever since his tortures of so long ago—he had been treating
everyone, including his mates, like servants. He had guarded his
feelings, refusing to allow anyone to speak to him as if he were
nothing but a worthless man.

But Freedman and Omar weren’t like that. He knew in his heart

they meant him no harm. He was going to have to learn to stop taking
everyone in a negative manner or lose the two men who meant the
world to him.

Salvador stopped, moving quickly into the shadows when he saw

a car with tinted windows pull up in front of the lab. Men dressed in
black fatigues climbed from the car, and then a man in a business suit
exited last.

Immediately Salvador thought of Enrique when he stared at the

human in the suit. There was no way the two were not related. The
man had a mixture of black and grey hair, an image of what Enrique
would look like when he had passed his prime. He was quite

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handsome in his dark suit and baby-blue dress shirt, but the human’s
light-grey eyes were cold and soulless, the total opposite of Enrique’s.

“I want this place locked down,” the human in the suit said to the

men in black gear. “No one gets out of here. If you find a nonhuman,
kill him.”

The team stormed toward the door, the air all around them silent.

They made no noise as they entered the building and disappeared. The
human who looked like Enrique smoothed his hand over his hair and
then opened the glass door, walking inside.

Salvador mentally summoned his coven. “Protect my mates and

the Rebellion group.”

Once the order was given, Salvador used his speed—which was

not breaking his promise—to enter the building unnoticed.

He wasn’t at full strength, but that wasn’t going to stop him. His

mates’ lives were in danger, and he wasn’t going to sit by and do
nothing. Smoothing his hand down his own dark suit, Salvador
walked through the lobby and past the bank of elevators. He turned
left, heading toward his mates.

Two of his coven members appeared at his side. “My Lord, your

mates are going to be displeased when they see you here.”

Instead of telling the vampire to mind his place, Salvador nodded

instead. “They are going to make me sleep in a doghouse.”

The vampire stared at him as if Salvador had lost his mind. “I do

not understand.”

Salvador reached over and patted the man on the shoulder. “You

will when you find your mate and fuck up.”

The three stopped when one of the men in black fatigues rounded

the corner, his rifle aimed directly at Salvador’s midsection.

“Human or nonhuman?” the soldier asked.
“How about portador da morte?”
“What does that mean?” the human asked, his fingers visibly

tightening on his weapon.

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The vampire next to Salvador gave a deep chuckle, his fangs

gleaming from the overhead light. “Bringer of death.” The two
vampires were on the human before he could get a single shot off.
Salvador stood there and watched, growing hungry as the scent of
blood filled the air.

“Drink, My Lord.” The two stepped aside and Salvador could see

the man was dead, but not drained. He didn’t hesitate. Salvador took
what he needed. The only way he was going to fully recover was from
feeding.

Once the human was drained, they moved the body into the room

closest to them, hiding it from the other humans. There was no need
to let anyone know vampires were involved here. Keeping them in the
dark was their best option in defeating them.

Salvador continued to watch through his mates’ eyes, making sure

no harm came to them. If it looked like they were in mortal danger,
Salvador would have no choice but to use his powers.

He was really trying not to break his promise, but there were some

things a man would not stand by and watch happen. His mates’ deaths
were one of those things.

“Are you not supposed to be up front watching the place?”

Salvador asked Miguel when he spotted the werewolf searching the
rooms.

“Yeah, but I saw the military men come in with a guy in a

business suit. I’m not about to wait up front when some shit is going
down.” The man closed the door of the room he had been looking in.
“My first and foremost job is to keep my alpha and his mate safe. I
can’t do that if I’m watching the streets.”

Salvador didn’t argue with the young man. He didn’t stop Miguel

from joining him either. He knew what loyalty was and admired it in
the fierce werewolf.

He just wondered how Enrique was going to handle the realization

that his nephew wasn’t really dead.

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* * * *

Rick was standing there looking at a ghost.
“Well, hello, Uncle Rick.”
“You’re–You’re dead.” He had seen the pictures of his nephew

being killed. It was reported in the paper that one of the bodies
belonged to Alexander Marcelo. Rick and Dorian were being accused
of the crime. “How can this be?”

Through the entire war, Rick had been surprised over and over

again with the betrayals, lies, and deception, but nothing could have
prepared him for this. All kinds of scenarios played in his head from
Alexander being brainwashed to the young werewolf being held
against his will, but deep down in the core of his being, Rick knew the
truth.

Alexander was a traitor.
His death had been a setup.
Oh god, he was going to be sick.
Alexander gazed fixedly at Rick, his cold blue eyes filled with

anger and hatred. “I was approached before this war started about
helping the humans. They cut me a deal. If I helped them on the
science end of things, they would find a cure and I would no longer be
a diseased human being. I could get rid of the lycanthropy that runs
rampant through my veins and live a normal life. You know I was
majoring in bioengineering in college. This was the perfect
opportunity for me.” So matter-of-fact. So scientific. There was no
regret in his nephew’s tone, no sorrow that things had turned out this
way. Just a statement of how things unfolded.

Rick remembered the pictures Nate had shown him of Alexander

being shot. The images were burned into his memory. It had all
looked so real. Alexander had looked resigned and so damn scared.

But it was all an act.

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Alexander despised Rick. He could feel the anger seething in the

young man’s blood. How had he not known his nephew had felt this
way, that he hated his heritage so much that he would betray it?

Alexander raised his chin and spoke directly to Rick. “I wanted to

repair the mutated gene in the human body. I used a virus as my
choice of delivery systems. Nothing works better than a virus. What
we’ve been trying to do is target the cells carrying the lycanthropic
disease. It’s been a nightmare trying to get the virus where I want it to
go, but I’ve had help along the way.” His nephew gazed at Dr.
Oswego and then his head turned toward a small bunny.

Was that Omar?
Oh, hell.
“We were close to a cure, but you had to go and rescue our test

subjects. There are now hundreds of changelings out there with the
ability to shift into multiple breeds. I was not able to finish my
research because of your heroic attempts.” Alexander’s hand slammed
down on the table in front of him. “But you will not take the test
subjects from this lab!”

Rick stared at his nephew, unable to connect the boy he knew to

the man standing in front of him. This traitor was a total stranger to
him. This was not his little Alexander. He couldn’t allow himself to
feel anything toward him. Isabelle was, and would remain, his only
living relative—aside from her newborn babe.

But that didn’t stop the mourning his heart was experiencing. He

had loved Alexander with all his heart. His nephew had been a bright
spot in Rick’s life until he was killed. No, he wasn’t killed. The man
was standing right before him, hating who he was and trying to wipe
out the changeling DNA.

But as much as Rick tried to imagine killing the man and ending

his madness, he couldn’t. It was still Alexander. He was still Rick’s
nephew. Outward, Rick held his composure, glaring at Alexander
with hatred.

Inside, Rick was falling apart.

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225

He knew he had to burn this place to the ground, but he also knew

he couldn’t be the one to end Alexander’s life.

It wasn’t going to be him.
And a small part of him would resent the person who did.
“You’re a little on the psycho side, aren’t you?” Freedman asked.

“What is with you scientists and thinking you can fuck with what god
has created?”

“God?” Alexander spat. “There is no god. There is only science. If

there were truly a god, then the Omnipotent One would not have
allowed such abominations to be created in the first place.”

“Don’t you remember the veil?” Rick asked, his tone lifeless and

void of the love it should have held speaking to this man. “Don’t you
remember the stories we grew up with? The stories that said we aren’t
even from this realm?”

“Bedtime stories for young minds.” Alexander scoffed. “Tell me,

Uncle Rick. Do you believe every fairy tale you hear?”

“No,” Rick replied. “But you know as well as I do that they aren’t

fairy tales. My grandfather, your great uncle, witnessed the veil
themselves.”

“Lies,” Alexander snarled. “For an alpha, and the leader of the

Rebellion group, you should know the difference between fairy tales
and truths. How have you managed to make it this far?”

Rick bristled at his nephew’s condescending tone. “I’ve managed

to make it this far from the lives of damn good men and women, from
people who are proud of their heritage and would fight and die to
protect their cherished species.”

Alexander gave him a mocking stare. “What do you know about

honor?”

Rick took an aggressive step forward, bumping and knocking the

table next to him aside. “Until you have fought for something you
believe in, until you can stand in front of the gravestones of men and
women who have died to help you fight to keep their species alive,
don’t you dare ask me about honor!” The words were grenades

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thrown into the hush of the room. Rick had to force the words out past
the constriction in his throat. The very air around him was filled with
aggression and violence. Rick knew the situation was becoming
volatile. He was not going to stand here and let Alexander mock what
his species was dying to protect.

A trickle of sweat ran down Rick’s temple. He knew what he had

to do in that moment. It was just going to kill a part of him to do it.

But Alexander had to die and he had to be the one to kill him.
He waited for Alexander to say something, but the man just stood

there with a defiant expression on his face.

So be it.
Rick shifted, throwing the table aside Alexander was standing

behind. He backed his nephew into the counter, bringing his muzzle
dangerously close to the man’s face. “You are the true abomination.”

“Rick!” Dorian shouted.
Rick grabbed Alexander by the throat and then turned, seeing the

room fill with men dressed in black fatigues. One had Dorian in a
tight grip, a gun pressed into his mate’s head. Freedman was being
held at gunpoint as well.

The next to walk through the door was Salvador, Miguel, and

Salvador’s vampires. Miguel aimed his gun at the man holding Dorian
hostage.

The situation was a powder keg ready to explode. Everyone sang

with tension, their weapons pulled and aimed at each other.

Salvador walked to the table where the bunny was sitting and

scooped Omar up into his arms. “May I break my promise?” Salvador
asked, turning toward Freedman.

“What promise?” Dr. Oswego asked, his eyes darting around the

room. Rick could scent the man was a werecoyote. He had heard
about him from Deluca and Brooke. Oswego had been the leading
man experimenting on children.

Rick wanted the bastard dead.

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“The promise not to use my mental abilities to kill everyone in

this room who I do not hold dear to me.”

“Ah, shucks.” Miguel grinned. “I didn’t know you cared.”
Salvador stroked the rabbit in his arms, giving Miguel a quick

flash of fangs. “I do not. But you are an integral part of Enrique’s
group.”

“Ah, yes, Enrique Marcelo.”
Rick watched as a man who was the mirror image of himself—

only years older—walk into the room and stop right next to the
soldiers aiming their guns at Rick.

O’Hanlon.
The man tucked his hands behind his back, his eyes

contemptuously gazing over Rick’s changeling form. “We finally
meet face-to-face.”

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Freedman was fully aware that not only was he standing in a room

with Rick’s dead nephew, but his biological father. The word
explosive was created for moments like this.

“Commander Lieutenant John Freedman.” O’Hanlon said his

name as if he had just run into an old friend. “I was wondering if I
would meet up with you again.”

“Surprise,” Freedman said with a tight-lipped expression.
But the captain wasn’t focusing on him. He was openly staring at

Rick in his changeling form. He looked fascinated and disgusted at
the same time, especially when Rick began to turn back into his
human form.

They just stood there for a moment, their hereditary light-grey

eyes locked together. Freedman knew this was the calm before the
storm. He could actually feel the lashes of violent waves begin to
build.

“I have hunted you down for years, Enrique.”
Rick’s upper lip curled. “Somehow I have a feeling it wasn’t to

get acquainted.”

“No,”—O’Hanlon shook his head—“it wasn’t.” He moved closer,

as if he held no fear for what Rick could do to him. Freedman could
hear the lack of humanity in the man’s tone. And then he proved it
with his next words. “I have killed to get to you, your parents and
brother being among the murdered.”

Rick looked as if he had just been punched by the fist of a god. He

almost buckled at the knees as his skin paled and his eyes grew round.
Freedman felt for the man. He had one emotional revelation after

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another in such a short span of time. If he were Rick, Freedman would
be in a blind rage right now, killing everyone around him.

But Rick just stood there, Alexander’s neck still tight in his grasp

as he gaped at O’Hanlon with a torn and grieving expression. “You
killed my family?” Rick’s whisper was filled with shock and
disbelief. He took a step forward and then stopped when the man
holding Dorian chambered a bullet.

Aggression rose, filling the air with the promise of violence.
Freedman knew there was about to be a deadly war right inside

this room, and he was going to be standing at Rick’s side when it
began. He was dying to tell Salvador to kill these coldhearted sons of
bitches, but Freedman wasn’t willing to risk his mate, not even for
Rick.

Rage flashed in Rick’s light-grey eyes, burning like a cold flame.

“I am going to enjoy killing you.”

“Funny,” O’Hanlon said. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He

walked over to one of his soldiers and grabbed the man’s gun, quickly
turning and firing.

Rick staggered back.
“No!” Dorian shouted, elbowing the man holding him in place.

Another shot rang out. This time blood began to trickle down
Dorian’s scalp, but he moved across the room with lightning speed,
grabbing Rick as the werewolf alpha crashed into the cupboard.
Alexander moved away from Rick with haste, quickly standing next
to Oswego.

“Now?” Salvador asked.
“No,” Freedman replied.
“You are not going to leave this room alive, Enrique Fernando

Marcelo. Your mate is going to watch you die, and then I am going to
kill him, and everyone else in here.” O’Hanlon raised the gun, firing it
a second time.

Rick stumbled, crashing into a cart filled with tubes and samples.

The items fell to the floor, smashing into a thousand shards of glass.

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“My research!” Dr. Oswego shouted.
O’Hanlon paid the man no attention.
Dorian shifted and leapt at O’Hanlon, but another shot rang out

and Dorian fell short, hitting the floor hard.

“Now?” Salvador asked, his tone growing dark and deadly.
O’Hanlon turned, pointing his gun at Freedman. “You are going

to die, Freedman. You betrayed this country and joined with the
animals. You are no longer an American, but a traitor to your own
country.”

Salvador’s features darkened as he moved to stand in front of

Freedman. “I would suggest you lower your weapon, human.”

O’Hanlon glanced at Salvador. “I think it is I who has the upper

hand here.” He shot his gun again, but the bullet stopped short of
entering Freedman’s forehead. It was suspended in midair, twirling in
a circle, but never entered its victim.

Namely Freedman.
He swallowed hard, staring at the tiny object that would end his

life if Salvador’s power failed. It was a sober feeling and making
Freedman sweat profusely as he stared at it.

“Now?” Salvador asked.
Freedman glanced over to where Dorian had been lying. The man

was crawling on his belly, trying desperately to get to Rick who was
lying there with his eyes closed.

Freedman gave a tight nod.
With stone cold precision, the bullet turned, and then shot across

the room, slamming between Alexander’s eyes. Rick’s nephew
crumbled to the floor as all hell broke loose.

“Do not exert yourself!” Freedman shouted at Salvador.
“But I have plenty of bodies to replenish what I use,” his mate

said as he handed Omar to Freedman and then raised his hands.

The room fell silent.
No one moved.

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231

“What the hell kind of trickery is this?” O’Hanlon shouted, his

eyes darted around to his unit and then over to Salvador. “What have
you done to them?”

“He’s about to kick all your asses,” Freedman said as he tucked

Omar under his arm. He glanced over at his mate, seeing a trickle of
blood begin to ease its way down from Salvador’s nose. Even holding
these men in place was too much exertion.

O’Hanlon began to back away.
Freedman pulled his gun free and aimed it with his free hand.

“Not so fast. Do you seriously think I would let you just walk out of
here?”

“You have no choice,” O’Hanlon said before grabbing one of the

men in his unit and throwing him at Freedman. All of a sudden the
room was back in motion, only the unit of humans who had come
here with O’Hanlon was writhing on the floor in pain. Freedman took
off after O’Hanlon, but by the time he made it to the hallway, and
then the front lobby, O’Hanlon was long gone.

Cursing under his breath, Freedman hurried back to the lab. All of

the soldiers were dead. He pierced Dr. Oswego with a hard glare.
“What did you do to baby Kell and the other kids at the Calvary
Home of Salvation?”

Dr. Oswego stood there staring at Salvador as if he would love to

get his hands on the vampire to find out what made him tick.
Freedman could see that Salvador was barely holding it together. His
mate was suffering and that just pissed Freedman off.

“He has enhanced their genetics,” Salvador said as he leaned

against the wall, the flow of blood growing thicker. “He has enhanced
their lycanthropy abilities.”

Freedman aimed his gun at Dr. Oswego as he neared Salvador.

“Get out of his head. It’s hurting you too badly.”

Salvador nodded. Freedman allowed his coven to help Salvador

feed from the dead soldiers as he walked over to Dr. Oswego, using
extreme caution. He knew the guy was not only a nutty scientist, but a

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changeling as well. “What is going to happen to Kell and the other
kids?”

“Wonderful things,” Dr. Oswego said, a smirk on his face as he

stood there acting as if a gun wasn’t shoved in his face.

“Sorry you won’t be around to watch your subjects grow up.”

Freedman shot the man before the changeling even had a chance to
move. Dr. Oswego crumbled to the floor.

Sitting Omar down, Freedman checked on Dorian and then Rick,

stunned that both seemed to be shaken up, but not dying.

Salvador.
He must have mended them while he had the soldiers in his

mental grasp. He was going to kick the man’s ass. Although he was
grateful the two were alive, Salvador knew better than to use extra
freaky-deaky powers when he was so obviously suffering.

Nate and his team came rushing into the room, Miguel close

behind. He hadn’t even noticed Miguel leave the room.

“I chased O’Hanlon as far as I could, but he got to his car before I

could capture him,” Miguel said and then grinned. “But I did shoot
him in the shoulder.”

Freedman quickly grabbed Omar and tucked him in his backpack.

“Come near my mate and I’ll have Salvador scramble your brains.”

“As much as his scent is driving my wolf crazy,” Nate said as he

bent at the waist, “my alpha and his mate come first.” Nate hauled
Rick up into his arms. Rick wasn’t a small guy, but Nate carried him
with ease as he walked out of the lab.

Without a word, Sasha grabbed Dorian and then stopped, his eyes

fixated on the floor. “Is that Alexander Marcelo?”

“Was,” Freedman said. “He’s dead.”
“But wasn’t he already dead?”
“Apparently he agreed to help on the scientific end of things and

had his own death faked.”

“The two members of my leap?” Sasha asked as he turned toward

Freedman. “Were they in on this as well?”

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233

“No,” Freedman said. “They really did die down by the

waterfront. Sorry, man.”

Sasha gazed down at Alexander once more before taking Dorian

from the room.

“He’s a bunny,” Benito said, his features growing darker as he

stared at Omar. “He’s really a bunny.”

“I swear to god I’ll bust a cap in your ass if you come near him.”

Freedman walked over to Salvador, watching as some of his mate’s
color returned to his face. “And as for you. No mind tricks until you
are fully healed.”

“But he’s a bunny,” Benito almost whined.
“Go help Rick, Benito, before I wound you.”
“But I want him.” Backing out of the lab, Benito licked his lips

and then turned, disappearing from sight.

“Kids,” Miguel said under his breath as he stared at the door his

cousin just exited.

“I might be human, but I know you are dying to get Omar. Get

out.”

Miguel gave him a wicked smile before he followed Benito.
“Damn changelings.” Freedman followed the coven as they

helped Salvador from the building. Once they were back by their
vehicles, Omar shifted.

“How ya feeling?” Freedman asked, checking over his mate.
“Like prey.” Omar ran his hand over his head.
“Little Bunny Foo Foo, hopping through the forest,” Benito was

singing under his breath as he passed Omar.

Freedman grabbed Omar when his mate tried to get at Benito.

Omar’s face was mottled with anger. “Stay away from me!”

Benito laughed, jumping away from Omar. “Stop smelling so

edible.”

“Enough,” Freedman scolded, “or I’ll call Beastman and ask him

to pay you a visit.”

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Benito didn’t think that was funny. As a matter of fact, his face

grew pensive as he walked away. Freedman knew the wererabbit was
smitten with Benito, but he had only said that to needle Benito.

He wasn’t sure what was going on with the guy and didn’t care at

the moment.

“How’s Salvador?” Omar asked as he grabbed some clothes from

the back of the truck and dressed.

“Better.”
“I can’t believe what Alexander did.” Omar’s Adam’s apple

bobbed as he swallowed hard, looking as if he were fighting back
tears. “Rick’s been through enough.”

“In this war, I just about believe anything. It wouldn’t shock me if

the president walked into this parking garage and announced he was a
damn fairy.” Freedman, along with Omar, walked over to where their
mate’s coven was helping him.

“How are you feeling?”
Salvador’s eyes were strained around the edges. That worried

Freedman. The man had exerted more power than he had to give. It
had saved their asses, and Rick and Dorian’s, but it still pissed him off
that Salvador would take a chance with his life.

“I just need—”
“Rest and nourishment, I know.” Freedman leaned in close,

staring into the dark liquid pools of his mate’s eyes. “But if you pull a
stunt like that again, I’m going to spank that ass.”

Salvador’s eyes widened as he nodded. Freedman was surprised

the man had relented so easily.

“We didn’t find anyone in the building we searched,” Freedman

heard Nate say to Rick. “We finished searching yours, but the jaguar
was dead by the time we got to him.”

Freedman cursed under his breath. They had known Freedman

and them were in the building. That probably sealed the jaguar’s fate.
As much of a fuss as Alexander put up about his test subjects, he had
been lying. The jaguar was the only changeling held captive.

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Freedman gazed over at the alpha. Rick was sitting just inside the

truck, Dorian held tightly in his arms. He looked shaken up and a bit
pale. Hell, who could blame the man. He had faced his dead nephew
and his biological father all in one sitting, and found out O’Hanlon
had killed his family.

That was a lot to take in.
Sasha and Selene came running across the street, hauling ass as

explosions began to sound and black billowing smoke began to rise
from the two labs.

“We need to head out,” Sasha said. “The two buildings are going

to come down and we don’t need to be around when the humans show
up.”

Freedman lifted Salvador into his arms and placed him in the

backseat. He and Omar sat beside their mate as the trucks pulled out
and sped away.

The labs lit up the night, taking with it the horrors and research

that should have never taken place.

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Chapter Twenty-Six

Omar laid his head on Salvador’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath

and glad as hell no one was killed. No one he cared about, at least. “I
was so scared.”

“I’m okay, Omar.” Salvador wobbled a little but stayed upright.

Omar held on tighter, fearing Salvador would fall over. The guy still
looked a little on the weary side. “I need to sit down, meu destino.”

Omar wiped his face with his sleeve and nodded, his hands

hovering as Salvador sat on the side of the bed.

“You still look a little peaked.” Freedman walked up behind

Omar.

Salvador winced and then pulled from Omar’s arms, lying on the

bed in the nameless motel room Nate had secured for them. “I used
more than I should have, but all is well now.”

“You promised!” Omar said as he wrapped his arms tight around

his stomach, already missing the feel of his vampire in his arms. “I
know you had no choice, but you exerted yourself more than you
should have.”

“We could argue the point all night, but I will survive. Is that not

the most important thing?”

“Don’t try and get out of this. I’m mad as hell at you.” Omar

crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Salvador. He was not
letting Salvador off the hook so easily. His mate could have died.
That was not something he even wanted to contemplate.

“Freedman, help him out please.” Salvador glanced behind Omar,

his eyes almost begging the man to stop Omar’s protest. For now
Omar would leave it alone. As soon as Salvador was on his feet, he

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237

was going to lay into the man. To hell with risking his life. They were
bound together and Omar was not going to suffer the agony of losing
one of his mates.

“I’ll let it go…for now.”
Salvador reached up and Omar immediately went to his mate. He

may be mad at the man, but his breeds were anxious to know that
Salvador was truly safe. “Is there nothing I can do to get out of the pet
house?”

This brought a small smile to Omar’s face. “Doghouse.”
Salvador winked at him, and Omar blushed. “I can think of many

things that will persuade you to forgive me,” he whispered.

“I’m pretty sure you can.” Omar whispered as Salvador kissed his

forehead. That wasn’t exactly where Omar wanted the man to kiss
him.

“Scoot over.” Freedman tapped Omar’s leg. “Make room for me.”
Omar scooted over and let Freedman join them on the bed.
“Do you want to talk about shifting into a furry little bunny?”

Freedman asked as he curled up next to Omar.

Omar turned ten shades of red as he remembered the look on

Freedman’s face when he shifted. Of all the things he could have
turned into, it had to be a freaking bunny. He was never going to live
that one down. Not only was Benito hell-bent on teasing him, but he
was pretty sure Nate would have something to say when he saw the
man again. “We can discuss it in about twenty years.”

“Then I’ll let it go.” Freedman backed Omar into Salvador’s arms

and pinned him in place. “But I have to let you know that you are the
cutest little bunny I have ever seen.” He kissed his way down Omar’s
neck and bit his chin. Goose bumps broke out all over Omar’s body as
a sensation of warmth and sensual hunger washed through him.
Freedman’s touch was setting Omar on fire. Omar’s could feel his
eyes begin to glow as Freedman’s arousal heightened his very own.

“I need you,” Omar whispered roughly as he felt his canines grow.

Freedman grabbed Omar’s wrists and put them behind Omar’s back.

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He could feel Salvador grabbing them and holding them in place as
Freedman’s mouth covered Omar’s hungrily. Denim-covered cocks
rubbed against one another as warm, moist lips ghosted along the
curve of Omar’s mouth.

“You wanna get fucked, baby, don’t you?” Freedman used his

teeth as he scraped them along the curve of Omar’s neck. “You want
to feel one of our dicks sliding inside your ass.”

“Yes, oh, god, yes, Freedman, please.” Any semblance of calm

was shattered with the hunger of Freedman’s mouth gliding along
Omar’s skin. The touch of Freedman’s lips was a delicious sensation,
especially when Salvador began to nibble at his neck. He had a
burning desire, an aching need building inside of him that he knew
could only be satisfied by these two strong men.

“First I want to taste you.” Freedman slid his fingers into Omar’s

waistband and lowered his jeans, sliding down with them. “So
tempting.” Freedman kissed the head of Omar’s cock as it sprang free,
moisture glistening at the tip. He pulled Omar’s shoes off and then
pulled his jeans free, tossing it all aside. Freedman grabbed Omar’s
hip as he took Omar’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh god…Freedman…I…god...” Omar tried desperately to buck

his hips, but Freedman held them in place. The only thing he was
capable of doing was running his hands over Freedman’s short hair,
his knees bending further aside as Freedman lapped at Omar’s
swollen erection.

Omar’s back slammed against Salvador as he tried desperately to

move. Freedman held him in a tight grip, working Omar’s cock down
his throat as Salvador removed Omar’s shirt. His hands began to run
up and down Omar’s chest, and then the vampire pinched Omar’s
sensitive nipples. A warm tongue slid across his balls, and Omar
could feel them drawing up tight to his body.

Oh god, Freedman was a sight sucking Omar’s cock. Omar could

only whimper as blood pounded in his brain, leapt from his heart, and
made his knees tremble. Yes, he was almost there, all Freedman had

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239

to do was… “So close,” he murmured. “So very, very close.” The all-
powerful man was sucking his dick and making Omar dizzy with
need. His naked flesh hummed as it rubbed against Salvador’s body.
Omar moaned as Salvador’s hands sought out pleasure on his skin. It
was a powerful feeling being idolized in this manner by two strong
and confident men, a feeling he would never tire of.

Omar’s hands scraped the nape of hairs on Salvador’s neck. The

feeling of such utter helplessness took over as Freedman worked his
cock down his throat and Salvador worked his callused fingers over
his sensitized skin. He was being mastered, and Omar found the
experience exhilarating.

“Omar, my god, you’re so beautiful.” Salvador’s dark voice

vibrated through him like a fine tremor.

Two slicked fingers probed at his hole, and Omar’s body

shuddered at the thought of having a hard, thick, and heavy cock
filling his hole.

His body shook, threatening to explode as Freedman massaged

and caressed his balls. Freedman’s tongue was working magic on his
engorged shaft. The man was rapturously sexual, a sensual male that
left Omar breathless.

Omar began writhing as he laid there, an uncontrollable

movement of his body in its most primal and most basic need.

Freedman stared at him with those pretty blue eyes, eyes that were

so close that he could see the fine black rings around them. For the
first time Omar noticed Freedman had flecks of green shattering
through the blue. He hadn’t paid attention before, but now Omar
noticed them and what a sight they were. They were hot and
smoldering, demanding he obey. Omar’s lips parted, and he began to
pant at what was to come.

Freedman let Omar’s cock slip out his mouth and chuckled. “Oh

no, baby, when you come, I am going to be buried balls deep.”

A cry escaped his lips when Freedman’s hot and moist mouth

pulled away and left his cock mourning the loss. Cool air mixed with

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Freedman’s saliva and shot tingles around his groin. His balls drew
tighter from the sensation.

“Get on your hands and knees, Omar.” Freedman issued the

command with a deep and penetrating tone that made Omar want to
obey instantly.

The fingers left his hole, and Salvador released Omar. He turned

around, crawling to the center of the bed. As he glanced over his
shoulder, a flame leaped into Freedman’s gaze as pure sexual
awareness seemed to fill the air around them.

Omar nearly fell to the bed as sensual weakness flooded him. He

watched Freedman and Salvador crawl from the bed, both slowly
peeling their clothes from their bodies, and revealing taut muscles and
engorged cocks.

Omar was hypnotized by the sight as both climbed back on the

bed. He watched in amazement as Freedman’s hands ran over
Salvador’s back and buttocks. They snaked around to grab Salvador’s
jutting cock and a slow stroke began. Omar’s eyes were glued to the
lazy jackoff.

Freedman nipped Salvador’s neck, and Omar’s breath hitched,

and then his breathing became deeper, harder. As he watched two
very masculine men enjoy each other’s touch, a blistering hot shudder
ran through Omar’s body, nearly catapulting his senses straight out of
his head.

It was the most erotic scene he’d ever witnessed. His fingers

itched to join in the play, but he couldn’t move. The beauty of the two
men touching one another had him lost in his own little world. When
Freedman bent Salvador over and pressed two lubed fingers into
Salvador’s anus, Omar damn near climaxed.

Freedman’s dry hand cupped Omar’s jaw, his fingers gliding over

his skin as Freedman’s eyes locked with his. Omar lowered his. He
wanted to watch, but Freedman’s gaze was too much, too intense.

“Touch him, baby.”

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Omar glanced up at Freedman to see a playful glitter in the man’s

eyes. His hand reached out and ghosted over Salvador’s ass, and
down his crack, to feel Freedman’s slick fingers stretching Salvador.

“Meu destino,” Salvador moaned when Omar reached around and

squeezed Salvador’s balls. “You know how to touch and bring me
such pleasure.”

Omar gave another light squeeze, and Salvador groaned. To hear

the pleasure escaping Salvador’s lips made Omar feel powerful in a
small way. Salvador was a man of great power, and he was making
the vampire groan in pleasure. Yes, it was a damn powerful feeling.
One Omar cherished.

Omar moved back when Salvador crawled to him like a predator.

His eyes locked onto Omar like he was the prize and Salvador was
going to swallow him whole. Salvador’s hands pressed deep into the
mattress as he made his way up Omar’s body.

Omar’s eyes darted up at Freedman, who stood there watching

them closely, then Omar looked back at Salvador, seeing his sharp
fangs gleam in the dull light of the room.

Omar began to tremble with the thought that Salvador was about

to take him. He was about to be taken by both his mates once again.

“Salvador.” Omar lay back and spread his legs wide, desperately

wanting to feel Salvador’s cock buried inside of his body. Salvador
pushed Omar’s legs to his chest as firm lips whispered over Omar’s,
his fangs giving a light nip to Omar’s bottom lip.

Omar’s palms touched Salvador’s face as he drew Salvador’s head

closer and thrust his tongue inside Salvador’s mouth. Salvador’s
hands dragged across the muscled planes of Omar’s abdomen, making
them quiver with want and need.

Salvador’s eyes were dark pools, mesmerizing, endless, and Omar

could see a true predator staring at him. His mate was powerful, a
man of his own worth, and mated to Omar. He had always wanted a
strong mate considering Omar was not alpha material.

He had been granted two strong males.

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Leaning down, Salvador took Omar’s mouth in a sensual kiss.

Salvador’s kiss sent new spirals of ecstasy through Omar as he felt the
intimacy of Salvador’s touch.

Omar’s hand slowly descended until he could feel Salvador’s hard

shaft against his own. He wrapped his hand around both, beginning a
slow and methodical rub.

His heart gave an extra beat when the bed dipped and Freedman

stretched out beside him. Freedman’s hand joined his, wrapping
around both cocks and taking over the movement.

When Salvador broke the kiss and panted with closed eyes,

Freedman growled softly. The sound was feral for a human, and Omar
felt a bolt of electricity sizzle along his spine.

“He is so beautiful, isn’t he?” Salvador said as he opened his eyes

and gazed down at Omar.

“You both are.” Freedman crawled over Salvador’s back and

began to kiss his way down his spine.

Omar was so fucking close. To see Freedman dominate Salvador

and to have the vampire dominate him was a combination that blew
his mind away.

“You are a beautiful man,” Freedman crooned behind Salvador.
“He is a beautiful man.” Omar reached up and cupped Salvador’s

face. “If anything had happened to you…”

Salvador kissed the palm of Omar’s hand. “Leave all your worries

for later, meu destino. Tonight is for our pleasure.”

Omar wasn’t going to let his fear eat away at him. Besides,

Salvador’s deep and flawless accent was making his hole quiver. It
seemed to grow thicker when the man was filled with sexual tension.
He could listen to Salvador speak to him for days on end and never
tire of the guy’s voice.

“Fuck me, Salvador,” Omar begged into his mate’s mouth as he

pulled the vampire down for another heated kiss.

Salvador reached between them and grabbed his cock, lining it up

to Omar’s tight muscle. He took his lips back, latching them onto

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Omar’s neck and sucking at his Adam’s apple. His tongue traced
down and lapped at the small dip at the center of Omar’s collarbone
as his mate slowly began to work his cock into Omar’s ass.

Omar’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as Salvador’s cock sent

him to the edge of pain. That wasn’t an exaggeration. The man was
very well endowed and made Omar a happy man.

Salvador moved slowly, his hips grinding. Omar was breathing

hard, his skin sensitive, the rasp of Salvador’s fine hairs on his body
caressing him, was nearly driving him mad. When his mate dipped his
head for a kiss, Omar felt the explosion of heat from his mouth to
Salvador’s.

Salvador’s body was so hard, so hot against Omar’s that it nearly

scorched him.

Omar knew the minute Freedman entered Salvador. His mate’s

fangs lengthened and a ring of red began to glow in his mate’s eyes.

And then in an instant, Salvador’s hips plunged hard, driving his

cock deep inside Omar, causing Omar’s body to scream with
pleasure, with an overload of sensation that made Omar cry out as
Salvador sank his fangs into Omar’s neck.

He pinned Omar down as he matched Freedman thrust for thrust.

Freedman’s physical strength behind him held Omar prisoner as
Salvador took Omar with him to the gates of heaven.

“Salvador…oh my god…oh god…fuck…Salvador.” Omar’s cock

was iron hard, the flesh heated as it throbbed between their bodies. He
needed release.

Salvador snapped his hips harder, and Omar felt the fat, flared

cockhead pull all the way back and then slam into him. He could feel
the muscled thighs tight against his own. Omar wanted Salvador to
consume him. The brutal hunger of Salvador was a pulse against
Omar’s body, powerful and boldly masculine.

Omar whined as he felt Salvador’s balls slapping his. The

sensation was his undoing. Omar arched his back off the bed as he
cried out Salvador’s name. Omar’s climax crashed over him and he

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threw his head back, yelling as cum shot from his cock to splatter
between them.

Freedman dug his fingers into Salvador’s hips and pistoned into

his ass, roaring out his release. Salvador pulled his fangs free, gazing
down into Omar’s eyes as Omar watched the man’s body jerk and
Salvador cried out his release.

Omar’s body racked with aftershocks as he fought for air.

Salvador licked the wound closed at Omar’s neck and nuzzled him.
Freedman’s hands were dancing over Salvador’s back, his fingertips
tracing each vertebra of his spine.

Freedman cleared his throat, his eyes drifting down to Omar. “I

love you.”

Omar was stunned that Freedman had finally said the words. It

felt as if he had waited a lifetime for Freedman to come to terms with
what had happened to him and letting the past go.

“I love you, too.”
Salvador smiled at Omar, and then winked. The vampire had been

right. All Omar had to do was wait for Freedman and let the man’s
heart heal with their mating.

As Omar lay there watching the two men, he knew that he would

fight to protect the love he had found. Neither were werewolf, but
Omar had realized that fate gave a person what they needed, even if
the men he loved were a human and a vampire.

* * * *

Rick stood at the small lake that sat behind the motel, tossing

pebbles across the water as he thought about what had taken place in
the lab. His mind couldn’t grasp the fact that Alexander had been
alive all this time, working against the changelings. Out of all the
deception he had dealt with since the war started, that one cut him the
deepest.

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245

He had mourned his nephew’s loss and had vowed vengeance. He

felt like a complete and utter fool. The pain and betrayal skated over
Rick’s body, along his spine, and over his throat, tightening it to a
painful constriction.

Rick’s anger was quiet, a gathering storm beneath the smooth

surface he showed the world. How could Alexander have done such a
thing?

And then Rick thought about O’Hanlon. He had been shocked into

silence when he saw how much he looked like the bastard. They were
almost identical. It was like looking into his own reflection, only
O’Hanlon was grey around the temples and had weathered lines on
his face.

But there was no doubt the man was his biological father.
He also wondered what Kraven was plotting. There was no way

the guy was going to just walk away with his Soul Reapers. The
master vampire was too evil to concede.

Rick had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of the vampire or his

creations.

“I thought I’d find you out here.” Dorian walked down the path,

joining Rick at his side.

“I needed to think.”
Dorian took a step back. “Do you need me to leave?”
“God, no.” Rick pulled Dorian into his arms, resting his head on

his mate’s hair and inhaling his scent. His mate leaving was the last
thing Rick needed. Just having the man in his arms was a balm to his
troubled soul. “How do you feel?”

“Are you asking about me getting shot or if I’m over my

meltdown?”

Rick grinned into Dorian’s cinnamon-brown hair. “Both.”
“Well, thanks to Salvador, I didn’t die.” Dorian leaned his head

back, giving Rick one of his impish grins. “But if one more person
shoots me, I’m going to get really mad.”

A chuckle escaped Rick’s lips. “Is that right?”

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Dorian’s Peruvian-brown eyes softened. “As far as my meltdown,

I’m okay. Things were just getting to me. It was like a buildup that
finally boiled over.”

Pulling Dorian closer, Rick kissed his mate’s temple. “Don’t hold

it in. If you feel the pressure building, tell me. I don’t ever want to
live with the fear of losing you.”

Dorian nodded. “How do you feel?”
Rick gave a rough sigh. “I’m not sure. I feel like I have fallen to

my lowest point. To find out Alexander wasn’t dead and had betrayed
us sliced a deep hole inside of me.”

“And O’Hanlon?”
Rick felt the rage simmering inside his gut. He ground his teeth at

the thought of killing the man and ending this damn war. “He’s still
going to die. The human is nothing to me, gatito. My family is you,
Isabelle, Edward, and their newborn babe, along with our godsons. My
pack matters, but they are secondary. O’Hanlon isn’t even on that list.”

Dorian leaned into Rick, sighing as he stared out into the lake.

“Now what?”

Rick cherished that sigh. He planned on taking Dorian home after

this ended and listening to that sound every night they went to bed,
and every morning he woke with his mate in his arms.

Rick glanced over the lake, running his arms over Dorian’s,

knowing they were entering the last leg of their hard-fought journey.
“Now we head to Washington.”

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247

End of Book 6: Rise to Fall

To be continued in

Book 7: Rise to Live

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but

lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to
find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a

cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit