“He’s my cousin, yes, but there’s no catch to this. He needs to disappear, that’s all, and never come back. Suffice to say I have my reasons.” He pushed the pouch of diamonds toward Tarr. “He’s young and good looking, so you should be able to find a buyer for him, and I’ll give you another pouch just like this one when you pick him up.”
“When I pick him up, huh? That easy? And where might I find this man?”
“He’s on my ship. I’ll make sure it is easy for you—I can slip him a sedative in his food. That won’t be a problem.”
Bonnet shook his head. “If he’s your cousin, why would you do this? I understand Lycan families are quite close. Something about this doesn’t feel right.”
“He has a human mate that I’ve fallen in love with, if you must know. I need him out of the way so we can be together. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Just get him out of my way and I’ll pay you any price you ask—plus you’ll have whatever you’ll be able to get for selling him.”
Tarr continued to stare at him, so he leaned forward, trying to make his case. “If that’s not enough, I can get more. Just tell me what you need.”
Tarr smiled. “What I need?”
“Yes, I’ll get it for you.”
“That’s a very kind offer, and I’m glad to see you’re so willing to see to my needs. It will stand you in good stead in the years of service to come.”
Kyle sat back in his chair, his heart beating a little too fast. This asshole was toying with him, that’s all. He had to keep calm and not let him see he’d rattled him. “Don’t threaten me, Tygerian,” Kyle said. He could feel his hackles rising on his spine.
Tarr shrugged. “No threats. But why do I need to go to any more trouble when I already have you, plus this little bag of diamonds?”
Another icicle of alarm slid down Kyle’s spine, but he sat up straighter, glaring at the Tygerian. He could feel his incisors dropping from his gums. “I already told you. I’ll give you my cousin plus more of these diamonds. As many as you say.”
Tarr flicked his hand at the pouch, pushing it aside. “I have no need of more diamonds. What I do have need of is a beautiful wolf, and I think you’ll do quite nicely.” He turned his head and nodded toward someone behind Kyle. Kyle jumped to his feet, whirling around, and saw six large men coming toward him from a curtained area behind the bar. He felt the shift come over him as he backed away, growling menacingly. He backed right into a hard body behind him and turned, snarling and ready to rip out the Tygerian’s throat. Instead he found himself looking down the barrel of a gun pressed right between his eyes.
His split second’s hesitation allowed the men coming up behind him to charge him. Grabbing his arms, they held him fast while he struggled, shouting his rage, and their combined weight bore him to the floor. A big knee landed on his chest and he found himself looking up into Tarr’s green eyes. He held a syringe in his hand and jabbed it painfully into Kyle’s arm as he struggled, helpless to stop him. A great lethargy began to settle over him and he found it hard to move his limbs. As blackness settled over him like a shroud, he lifted his snout and gave one last roar of defiance, a howl of rage and frustration and fear so loud the walls vibrated with the sound.
Kyle felt as if he were swimming in a murky sea. There were times when he rose toward the dim light that seemed to come from above him and almost reached the surface, only to be pulled back down again, despite his struggles, by the relentless undertow. The water was so thick he felt as if he were swimming in some thick, syrupy substance. It weighed him down, confining him and bearing him to the murky bottom.
Only once or twice did he manage to almost break the surface, when his mouth was forced open and filled with water. He had no choice but to swallow it, and it lay heavy in his stomach. Once he vomited it back up and choked on it, but the currents rolled him to his side and pounded against his back, and then more water was forced down his throat. Again and again, the process was repeated and the only times he managed to find any peace at all was when the strong current allowed him to sink to the muck at the bottom of the sea and settle there, half-buried in it.
After an interminable time, the waters seemed to press him down a little less, and he was able to swim up closer to the surface. Someone was calling him, pulling on his consciousness. He opened his eyes and the first blinding headache hit, so hard and sudden it took his breath away. He closed his eyes and gasped at the pain, but he was being shaken by a strong hand. Opening one eye, he looked up and saw Tarr Bonnet staring down at him. There were some kind of bars over his face and for a few seconds, Kyle couldn’t make any sense of it. He forced open his other eye and shook his head, trying to clear his blurry vision.
No, it wasn’t bars over Tarr’s face at all, rather it was bars to some kind of cage, and Kyle was naked and enclosed inside it. The bars were just inches above his face, and he was sitting slumped in a corner of a metal cage just barely large enough to contain him. He couldn’t even sit up straight, but was hunched over, his head twisted to the side. He ached all over, but it was especially his head that hurt so much he could barely stand to keep his eyes open.
There was some kind of very sweet smell in the room, almost like the cookies his grandmother’s concubine used to make for him and his brother when he was a little boy. It smelled delicious and made his mouth water. Despite the pain and nausea, his stomach was cramping for food. One part of his mind idly wondered if they were trying to starve him into submission.
He closed his eyes against the sharp pains in his head, thinking he might drift back down to sleep. Near him, he heard sharp, almost angry words spoken in some alien language he’d heard before but couldn’t quite place—Tygerian, maybe? The voices grew louder. He opened his eyes again and thought he must be seeing double. There were two Tarrs now staring down at him, and oddly enough, one of them seemed to be really angry, while the other one seemed to be smirking at him with calm indifference.
The angry one suddenly put a hand through the bars and Kyle flinched away, thinking he was about to be hit. Instead, the hand retreated quickly and more rapid-fire Tygerian was shouted back and forth. The sneering-faced Tarr reached in and stroked his hair out of his face impatiently, so that the angry one could lean down closer to look at him. Kyle looked up at him too, trying hard to focus and blinking his eyes rapidly.
The second Tygerian’s eyes were beautiful, thickly lashed and a strange shade of golden green. They were warm and admiring as they stared down at him, and his face softened. Finally, after what seemed like a long time, he pulled his gaze away and nodded over toward the other Tarr.
Another rapid flurry of Tygerian words passed, and then the top of the cage was being lifted. Kyle saw two strange men who must have been some of Tarr’s workers come forward. Two sets of strong hands came down and lifted him as if he were a child, pulling him up and out of the cage. He tried to pull away but found he was too weak. He found himself being set down on his feet, but when the hands released him, his knees gave way and he sank down to his knees, unable to stand alone.
The angry Tarr knelt down beside him and peered into his face again, murmuring to him. Kyle tried to focus on him, but couldn’t quite clear his vision. This was definitely the source of the wonderful smell, though. It radiated off the man, surrounding Kyle with its sweet scent. Then he touched the side of Kyle’s face and what felt like a jolt of electricity jumped from his fingers, searing into Kyle’s brain. It screamed mate. Alarmed and amazed, Kyle recoiled, falling back on his ass and crying out again in alarm.
The two Tarrs looked at each other in surprise and then back down at him. Kyle tried hard to calm himself and shook his head again to clear it. This time when he looked back up, he realized that the smell and the overpowering urge to mate was coming from only one of the Tarrs—the one he’d termed the angry one.
Confused and shaken, he leaned toward the angry one’s legs. Touching him again was a risk, but he felt almost compelled to do it, and besides, the man seemed to be more puzzled now than anything else. Feeling sick and hurt, Kyle wanted only to get closer to his mate for comfort. Kyle wrapped his arms around his legs and amazingly, his mate allowed it, even bending over to stroke his hair as the two Tarrs carried on a conversation above him.
One of the workers came closer and pulled him roughly away from his mate’s legs and pushed him back down on his ass. His mate shouted at the man, who cringed away, and seemed to be apologizing profusely, dropping to his knees and then bending over to touch his forehead to the floor. The worker approached Kyle again, but this time he seemed much gentler as he strapped a kind of leather harness around Kyle’s upper torso. A silver ring rested in the middle of Kyle’s chest and to this ring, the man attached a sort of chain, or leash. He then handed the other end of the leash to the man who was Kyle’s mate.
All of this registered on some level inside Kyle’s brain, but he wasn’t upset or worried about it, or about anything else, really. Drugs…they’ve drugged me. That’s why I don’t feel like fighting any of this. It all seems like a dream. The explanation registered in his brain, but he still couldn’t feel any real anger over it.
His mate squatted down next to him and spoke to him in a kind, sympathetic-sounding voice, not that he could understand a word of it. Kyle thought he might even be speaking Lycan—the words flew around in the air around him like familiar, bright butterflies, but he couldn’t seem to grab onto any of them long enough for them to register and make any kind of sense. He nodded anyway and was rewarded by a beautiful smile and a caress on the side of his face.
He leaned into the warm hand and looked up at his gorgeous mate, who then bent over to brush a kiss against his dry, cracked lips. His mate took off his own shirt and tied it around his waist, and Kyle gazed up at him with gratitude. He stood up and tugged gently at the chain, and Kyle got awkwardly to his feet, holding both hands out to the side for balance.
