Deathtrap (Crossbreed Series Book 3)(50)
He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I understand what it means when something sucks. But why is it when something blows, it means the same thing? The words are opposite.”
I smiled. Niko was well-spoken and had a good grasp of the English language. Maybe he didn’t watch enough television to understand slang. “I don’t know, Niko.”
“Sometimes wordplay like that confuses me.”
“What brought that up?”
He moved to the bench across from me. “I heard conversations in the tunnels.”
I tucked my stringy hair behind my ears. “I never knew places like that existed.”
He laced his fingers together. “How are you feeling?”
My stomach churned. “Cristo was an evil man. Let’s just leave it at that.” When I noticed a conflicted look in his expression, I decided to let him off the hook. “Don’t worry. I’m not asking you to take out his light. It’ll go away once I sleep it off. It was different the last time; I was injured and couldn’t handle the additional stress.”
What I didn’t tell him was how dark light slithered like insects, devouring me from the inside out. I could taste it, smell it, and feel the evil deeds as if their ghosts were all around me. The adrenaline from running and jumping off the bridge had numbed me for a little while, but the sickness was quickly taking hold. Pulling Cristo’s core light had been my decision, so I needed to suck it up.
My heart flip-flopped when the back door suddenly opened. Viktor’s grey wolf leaped inside, his paws wet and dirt all over his coat. He smelled everyone—especially the baby.
Christian rocked the van when he jumped inside and sat next to me without a word.
Realizing we were a man short, my stomach knotted. “Where’s Shepherd?”
“Miss me already?” Shepherd said in a gravelly voice as he climbed in the van, his pants shredded and face spattered with blood. He tossed his leather coat on the bench, his shirt ripped down the front and hanging on him like a vest.
“Everyone thought you were dead,” Wyatt informed him.
Shepherd sat down across from us and wearily stretched out his legs. “If I were dead, I’d come back to haunt your ass.”
Wyatt put on his hat. “See? I told you guys.”
It didn’t take long for Niko to notice that Shepherd was hurt. “You need my help.”
“All I need is a cigarette.” Shepherd used his shirt to wipe the blood off his face, which continued dripping from the gash on his head.
Christian crossed his ankles. “Don’t trouble yourself, Niko. I’m sure Claude will give him a tongue bath when we get home.”
Shepherd flicked his gaze between them. “Fine. Just the gash on my head. It needs stitches, and I don’t trust any of you boneheads enough to thread a needle.”
The shakes came over me.
“Cold?” Christian asked.
While Niko began working his healing magic on Shepherd, Wyatt started up the van and headed home.
I wrung my hands. “No. It’s not that.”
“Can’t you force it out?”
“It doesn’t work like that. Can we stop talking about it?”
“Aye. Lean against me.” Christian draped his arm around my shoulder. “I see you found a nice pair of shoes.”
“I feel like a wet sock that just came out of the washer.”
Viktor’s wolf wedged himself between us and rested his head on the bench.
I stroked his soft ear. “What happened back there?”
Shepherd peeled off his bloodstained shirt and tossed it on the floor. There was no need to guess whose blood that was. “We got out alive.”
“And Cristo?”
A long silence filled in all the blanks. Killing Cristo wouldn’t bring back his woman or change what had happened, but at least no one else would suffer at the hands of that deranged lunatic.
My eyelids dropped like anchors, and I sighed against Christian’s chest.
He spoke quietly so no one else could hear. “When do you want to see your da?”
“Tomorrow,” I whispered back.
“Daddy?”
“Maybe another night you can call me that. Quiet now. I’m carrying you back to bed.” The familiar Irish accent snapped me out of my slumber.
I’d somehow lost myself in my dreams, going back to a time when I was a child and my father would carry me to bed after I’d fallen asleep watching TV. It only took me a few seconds to fast-forward and realize I wasn’t that little girl anymore.
I opened my eyes. Beautiful stained glass windows drifted by, open candles flickering against the wall as Christian floated past them.
“How’s Claude?” I mumbled.
“You shouldn’t worry about that pussy. He’s got Gem bringing him food on a silver platter.”
“I thought Chitahs didn’t like women serving them.”
“He’s learned to pick his battles with Gem.”
I suddenly convulsed when the urge to vomit came over me. Though my stomach was empty, my body was searching for ways to purge Cristo’s light even though it would leak out on its own in due time.
“I need to go to bed,” I rasped.
Christian kept a firm hold of me. “We have a family meeting upstairs.”
Cold sweat touched my brow, and I wiggled my legs. “Then put me down.”
“We’ll get there faster if I carry you.”
“Please, Christian. I need to walk.”
He set my feet on the ground and held my arms until I found my balance. I reminded myself that the sickness would only last another day. In my old life, I would have slept it off. But if Viktor wanted a meeting, then dammit, I wasn’t going to sit it out.
“What floor are we on?”
“The second. We’re going to Wyatt’s World.”
I bit down my laughter. “That makes it sound like an amusement park.”
“It’s the closest thing we have to one. An office, game room, and television all supervised by a clown.”
“How’s your ass?”
“Firm.”
“Any more splinters?”
“Perhaps you should give me a thorough examination after the meeting.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Any second thoughts about going to the family reunion tomorrow? You look like the dead.”
“Just let me sleep in. And tell Viktor I’m not up to cooking breakfast.”
“All part of the master plan?”
“Yep. I deliberately drank all that dark light just to get out of scrambling eggs.”
Claude appeared in the distance and looked as bad as I felt. Gem was trying to be his crutch, but Claude wasn’t about to lean on a woman. Especially a petite one half his size. His arm was in a sling, his shoulder bandaged, and he had a noticeable limp.
When we locked eyes, his brows drew together. “Are you hurt, female?”
“She has a raging bout of diarrhea,” Christian announced. “It’s grisly. Perhaps someone should bring a chamber pot and air freshener in case the meeting goes on too long.”
I glared up at him. “Are you sure you aren’t an escaped mental patient?”
As we entered the room, Wyatt was clearing trash off his long desk. Niko held up the wall by the door, his eyes closed and arms crossed. I let Claude and Gem take the couch and decided to sit down in one of the beanbag chairs so I’d have a direct view of the doorway. I half expected Viktor’s wolf to trot in, tail wagging. But instead, Viktor swaggered in wearing a dark robe tied at the waist and pajama bottoms underneath. He pulled out a leather computer chair and sat facing the room. Gem switched on the floor lamp beside the sofa to give us more light.
Wyatt shoved the overflowing wastebasket under the desk.
Viktor gave him a peevish look. “This is stolen property.”
“Found,” Wyatt corrected, crossing his ankle over his knee.
Viktor stroked his beard and didn’t bother arguing the details. “I want them returned tomorrow.”
“You want me to just walk into a store and give them a box? It doesn’t work like that.”
“Nyet. I want you to locate the company from whence they came and leave them on the property.”
“Better do as he says,” Gem piped in. “You’re starting to grow a tire around your waist.”
He winked. “A woman needs something to grab on to.”
Christian sat on a roller stool next to Wyatt. “I’ll handle breakfast in the morning,” he announced.
A few eyes darted my way, but no one said anything.
“Sorry I’m late.” Blue strode in, the baby cradled in one arm and a bottle in the other hand. “I had to give him a quick bath.”
Claude reached out. “Let me feed him.”
She looked at him warily. “Hold him gently. Have you ever fed a baby before?”
Claude took the baby in his good arm. The moment the baby started to cry, Claude released a purr that was more felt than heard. The vocalization was different from previous ones he’d made, and it delivered the same comforting embrace of a mother or father’s hug. The baby instantly shushed, delighted by the sound as he gripped one of Claude’s long fingers. Blue rubbed the nipple against the baby’s lips, and when he opened his mouth and began sucking on the bottle, Claude took over.
I studied Christian, curious where the bottle and formula had come from. “Did we stop for baby supplies, or do you guys just have that stuff lying around?”