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Not yet anyway.

Once he knew that Cloe was going to be okay and he’d figured out how to keep her safe that was a different story altogether. He didn’t need or want their protection. From what they’d told him, he knew that Masters, demons and shifters were searching for others like him, hoping to use them to make an army or whatever the f**k they were after. He didn’t care what they did, as long as they left him alone.

He didn’t want any part of their war, wasn’t interested in getting involved, but he did appreciate the heads up about what was going on. He’d be more careful from now on, use a different name, wouldn’t stay in one area for too long, not again. Not that there was a reason for him to stay anywhere now. Not with Marta gone, he thought as he felt his eyes begin to shift. With a simple thought he made his eyes return to their normal blue, refusing to clue this group in on just how badly he was hurting right now.

He’d learned long ago that his eyes gave away too much, let the doctors know just how badly they hurt him, pissed him off and frightened him. It had taken some time, but he’d eventually learned how to control the shift in his eyes and teeth. They might have been able to make him wish for death, but he’d refused to let them know just how helpless and terrified he’d really been.

“I still am,” Ephraim admitted, not really sounding all that worried about it and probably for good reason.

The man was just like him, a Pyte. He couldn’t even begin to describe his reaction to finding out that there were others like him. All these years he’d thought that he was a freak of nature, a mistake, but he wasn’t. There were more of them out there, a product of a vampire and a human woman in most cases. Unfortunately, it had also confirmed what the doctors had claimed all those years ago.

Marta wasn’t his sister.

At least not by blood. Not that he really cared, because the little girl he’d gone through hell with, raised, protected and loved would always be his sister. He didn’t give a damn what anyone said, Marta had been his baby sister and he would always love her and miss her. Learning that his father hadn’t really been his father, however, had damn near killed him.

He’d loved his father more than anything. More than that, he’d respected the man for his kind heart and his dedication to his family. When he’d been a child, he’d always hoped that he’d grow up to be a man just like his father, but now he knew that was impossible. The man that he’d thought was his father had simply been the man who’d taken over the responsibility and care of raising the child that his wife had left behind.

Christofer wondered if the man that he’d been raised to think of as his father had known the truth. If he had, he’d never showed it. He’d treated Christofer like his son, accepting him for who he was and never expecting or demanding anything more. His father had given his life to protect him and he would not dishonor him by thinking of him as anything less than his father.

“Is that why you brought us here?” Christofer asked, forcing his mind away from things that he’d rather not dwell on right now.

“To this compound?” Ephraim asked, shaking his head. “No, we didn’t bring the two of you here because we were expecting a fight.”

“Then why are we here?” Christofer demanded, turning to face the man that seemed to hold all the answers.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Cloe announced, apparently giving up on trying to “glare” her way to freedom as she joined them, making damn sure to put some space between them.

A few days ago, that little action would have seriously pissed him off, but today……

Today, it sounded like a good plan.

*-*-*-*

“Why don’t we have a seat?” Ephraim suggested, gesturing back towards the sitting area where the rest of her captors now reclined, obviously waiting to get this over with. Well, all but one. Kale, the bastard that she’d already decided that she didn’t like, was leaning back against the kitchen island, looking bored as he played with his iPhone.

She pretended not to notice when Christofer turned his back on her, pretended that it didn’t hurt or feel like he was abandoning her when she needed him to help her get through this. She hated needing him this badly. He’d attacked her, changed her into this monster and here she was, hurt because he wanted nothing to do with her. She was pathetic, but she wasn’t going to beg him for anything. Instead, she forced herself to focus on Ephraim. He was the clear leader of the group, which meant that he was her best bet to get out of here.

“Are you going to let me go afterwards?” she demanded, not really sure that she could handle anything more right now.

Ephraim shot her a sympathetic smile as he said, “No, I’m afraid that’s not an option. At least not yet.”

“That’s the only option that I’m giving you,” Cloe snapped back, the shades of red sharpening as her fangs shot down through her gums, cluing her into the fact that her eye color and fangs were tied in with her emotions. It was something that she was definitely going to have to work on if she didn’t want anyone to figure out that she was a-

“Don’t worry about your eyes and your fangs right now,” Ephraim cut in with a sympathetic tone. “You’ll learn how to control those with time.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she snapped, lying her terrified ass off.

“If I promise to answer all of your questions first, will you hear me out?” Ephraim asked, gesturing for her once again to go have a seat.

“What if after I hear you out, I still want to leave? What then?” she asked, wondering just how hard it would be to get past those security panels attached to the elevator doors and the fire escape she’d spotted at the other end of the small hallway when Christofer, the bastard, had carried her inside.

“I tell you what,” Ephraim said, glancing over his shoulder at the quickly darkening sky before looking back at her, “if you still want to leave after everything’s been explained to you, then I’ll let you go.”

She stilled as she considered him, obviously suspicious of this sudden turnaround. “I hear you out and you’ll let me go? Just like that?” she asked, narrowing her eyes on him, looking for a sign that he was lying.

He met her gaze head-on as he nodded. “You have my word.”

Nodding, she turned around and headed for the leather chair closest to the door, making her intentions clear from the start. She’d listen to him and then she was leaving, and she didn’t care what she had to do to make that happen.


Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy