Alpha. Part 16

Fly hesitated, searching my eyes, and, in that hesitation, I saw the answer.

Chapter Twenty.

Zane I knew there was a problem as soon as I got onto the grounds. It was too quiet, too dark. They were waiting for me; they had to be. That was fine, because I'd come for them. For Ace.

I should have done this years ago. I should have taken care of my cousin when the rumors started. Instead, I'd buried my f.u.c.king head in the sand and hidden from the truth like the coward I was. And now, my father and my pack were paying the price.

I went directly to the jailhouse, remaining in the shadows, which was easy considering all the lights were busted. Stalking noiselessly, I reached it without trouble. More warning signs. It shouldn't have been this easy. They should have tried to take me out at the border or, if not then, once I set foot on the grounds.

The windows had bars over them and the door was fortified. I remembered that from years before. If I was going into the building, I'd have to s.h.i.+ft back to human form, which I did. Still uninterrupted, I stepped up to a window around back. I saw him then saw my father lying on a cot in a fortified cell, chained to the wall, pa.s.sed out.

They'd stripped him naked.

They'd stripped their Alpha naked.

My blood ran cold, and my hands curled into fists. It took all I had to suppress the roar building inside me.

They would pay. I would make these traitors pay.

I took in the two men who stood carrying arms just outside the metal bars. Other than that, the place appeared deserted.

I considered my options. Two men. I could easily take them. They'd need more than one bullet to take me down, and I'd be quicker than them. But just as I reached to open the door, a handgun c.o.c.ked behind me, cold steel touching my skull.

"We've been expecting you."

"Glad you could make it, Z."

I turned, not recognizing the voices. They were obviously Ace's men, and it wasn't just two of them. There were about seven outside and, when the door opened, I saw the two inside weren't alone either.

"To what do I owe the honor of such a large welcome?" I asked.

"You mean to who."

"Whom, actually, I believe is proper English," I corrected.

"f.u.c.k you, a.s.shole. How's that for proper English?" He couldn't have been more than eighteen, this kid. But they all had guns, and all of them were trained on me.

It all happened so fast then. I thought I had time. I thought I could save him. But the order came - four words: kill the old man - so unexpectedly that everything seemed to move in some other dimension. I stood locked in place, still processing the words as someone aimed the gun at my father's head, my father who lay unconscious and naked on the cot, and fired. I felt it as if it had been me in that moment of death, heard myself scream, saw blood splatter onto the wall as a second shot was fired, my father's head jerking with each one, the bullets killing him. The third and fourth shots weren't necessary. Even the second hadn't been. But it took me that long to process what they'd done. In a fury so hot, so filled with years of hate, I heard nothing as I annihilated my enemy, killing them all as shots fired, injuring me, the fire of my wounds only churning that of my rage, of my blood l.u.s.t, hotter. I didn't stop until they all lay on the bloodied ground at my feet, dead or dying, gurgling, choking as life drained from them.

Finding the key to the cell hanging on a wall, I unlocked it, my ears still ringing as if the sounds of bullets still ricocheted off the walls. I knelt beside his cot, his bloodied, bruised body too damaged to heal, his brain shot out, permanently ending his life. Tears streamed down my face, regret at my own f.u.c.king stupidity killing me! Killing me along with him. I was sorry. I was so f.u.c.king sorry. But it was too late. He was dead. My father, Cain, Alpha of Savage Blood, had been killed like an animal by men not worthy to lick his boots. By a man he had taught. Had trusted. He had been betrayed, again, and, this time, the betrayal had cost him his life.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Kneeling beside him, I wept, my head on his belly, my hand holding his to the top of my head, seeking absolution I did not deserve, seeking the forgiveness of the dead. Of all I'd forsaken. All whom I'd failed.

A gurgle from behind me came at the same moment as that final thought.

Aria.

She was still alive.

I hadn't failed her.

Not yet.

Hands fisted, I rose and turned to where the sound came from, to a man not quite dead. I kicked him in the gut first, hate curling my lip, making my face into something hard. Something to be feared. I knelt, fisting his hair, forcing him to look at me.

"Where is he? Where is Ace?"

Nothing but a groan. I noticed how a part of his throat was missing.

"Where the f.u.c.k is he?"

He opened his eyes and looked at me, and even in his agony, he smiled. "He'll take Rage's princess. He'll take it all, traitor." He attempted to spit on me then but choked on his own blood. I released him, rising, finally understanding the depth of my stupidity.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Aria For hours, I sat at a table in the corner of the bar. Fly worked around me, unloading things, cleaning. Again. He kept an eye on me but didn't approach. Didn't try to engage me in conversation.

I nursed my third beer, processing. Zane had lied to me. Or at least omitted some pretty important information. He knew who had killed my father, knew who had started this whole thing - this craziness that put my family on the run - only to be found and brutally murdered. I'd escaped. For a long time, I'd wondered daily if I was also meant to die that night. And now I knew who it was. Who had wanted us gone. The reasons behind it were pathetic. A waste when the price was human life.

Power.

Revenge for some insane sense of betrayal.

That was it. Those were the reasons my parents and brother had been killed, their lives worth nothing to the man who had set this unending cycle of murder into motion. Of all the people in the world, it had to be the father of the man I loved.

And that man had lied to me.

He'd left out crucial information. I remembered the day he'd told me, how he'd asked me to let him tell me his way. How he hoped I wouldn't hate him. I hadn't thought it possible to hate him then.

As far as his part in this, I still believed Zane had been manipulated. But it did not excuse his omission and the fact that this was his pattern.

But there was one piece of the puzzle I still had to figure out. Who was Obsidian and how did he play into this?

Something caught my eye out the window. It was Mark, driving my car, top missing, into the parking lot. How s.h.i.+ny and new it looked. I stood when he walked inside, smiling. He greeted Fly then came over to me, handing me my keys.

"Good as new, almost. New top should arrive in another week or so. I'll get it on there as soon as it is."

"I don't have any money to pay you."

He shook his head. "Not asking for any. Z takes good care of me."

These men were loyal to Zane.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I realized I could leave. I could simply walk out the door, get into my car, and drive away. I could leave everything behind. I'd found what I'd been looking for - mostly. I hadn't found Obsidian, but, at this point, did I need to? Did it matter? Cain Von had been the one who'd initiated it all. Blood stained his hands. The men who'd actually carried out the killings were dead. Zane had taken care of that. Somehow, the need for revenge had faded. In a way, knowing - understanding - had given me the power to make some peace with their deaths.

But could I walk away from Zane? He'd lied to me. Omission was a lie that seemed to be habitual with him.

And what about my grandfather and what he'd expect? I'd promised to return with him. Was this the life I wanted? A princess in a world of werewolves? Did I want to create more of these creatures or did I want a normal, quiet life?

Was normal even an option for me? Or for any of my children - if I ever decided to have any?

When Fly went into the bas.e.m.e.nt to bring some more crates upstairs, I stood. I smiled at Mark as I slid my jacket on.

"Gonna take it for a ride."

He nodded, a proud grin on his face. I walked out the door and to my car. I hadn't decided anything. It was as though my mind wouldn't let me think about it. Moving on autopilot, I climbed into the car and started it, strapping on my seat belt and pulling out onto the road, not sure where I was going but needing to be away.

The cold air felt good, helped clear my head, although I did turn on the heat to warm my feet. I drove. Half an hour became an hour then two. But all that time, it was like I wasn't there at all. My mind was on Zane, and I grew angrier and angrier. I'd asked him repeatedly for the truth. He'd had so many chances and yet, he'd fed me piecemeal. And I was mad. It was time to finish this once and for all. Six years was a long time to live with one thing on my mind only to let it go like this.

I turned the car around, horns blaring behind me at the abruptness of my action. With new determination, I drove back toward the bar, back to confront Zane and finish this.

By the time I got there, I'd worked myself up. But when I found Zane, when I saw the anguish on his gray face when he turned to face me, I stumbled. He stood gripping the bar, his dirty knuckles white, dried blood smeared on his skin, his clothes, matting his hair, making him fierce, like someone you'd cross the street to avoid. Like some animal who'd been in a brutal fight. But when his eyes met mine, the hate that seemed to consume him made way for something else. Something broken.

"Aria."

"What the f.u.c.k were you thinking you were doing?" Fly asked, coming around the bar.

"Cain?" I asked Zane, ignoring Fly.

He'd kept his eyes on me the entire time. "Gone."

My heart twisted for him, but I had to confront him now or it was going to be never. I needed to do this. I was sorry for his pain, but these things had to be said. "When were you going to tell me?"

He stepped toward me, his eyes searching mine. "Tell you what?"

It was in the way he asked it that he gave himself away. He knew exactly what. And he was still lying. Still. I reached for the switchblade in my boot. I couldn't really hurt him with it, but wanted the feel of it in my hand anyway.

"Aria, put that down before you hurt yourself."

"No. I'm done. I'm sorry about your father's death. No, wait, I'm not."

"Talk to me. Talk to me, Aria." He circled me, but I kept enough distance so he couldn't grab the blade from my hand this time.

"You want me to talk to you? Like you talk to me?" I asked, swiping the blade in the air, making him jump backward. "You want me to spill my secrets like you do yours?"

"Aria, put that down. I mean it."

"Fine, I'll spill. h.e.l.l, one of us has to."

He reached for me, but I pulled back just in time.

"I know."

"What do you know?"

"I know who killed my father. I know who started all of this."

He glanced at Fly and Mark who stood back, wide-eyed. "Go." A one-word command and the two left us. "Give me the blade," Zane said, his expression hardening.

"No."

"It's over, Aria. He's dead."

"When were you going to tell me? Were you going to tell me at all?"

He tried again to take it, but this time when I stepped backward, I tripped, giving him the moment he needed to catch my wrist. We tumbled to the ground, Zane's weight crus.h.i.+ng me as he caught my head just before it bounced off the floor.

"f.u.c.k. Aria, Jesus -"

"Why didn't you tell me?" All I could do was lie beneath him, my head hurting, my eyes burning with too many tears spent. Too many f.u.c.king lies and half-truths.

He pushed the hair from my forehead, wiping my tears away with his thumb.

"Why didn't you tell me Cain ordered my father's killing?"

Zane's body sagged, his eyes bloodshot, his face tired. This was it. This was the end. For him. Maybe for us.

"Because you'd hate me. Because I hate myself enough and I couldn't have you hate me, too."

Something broke in me. Something I hadn't realized was still whole, or at least partially so. I loved this man more than anything in the world, this man whose family had caused my family so much pain. Whose family had stolen everything from me. Without whom I couldn't exist.

"I can't hate you, Zane. I can't," I whispered.

He shook his head and put a finger to my lips. "I was the one who hunted and found your family. I wanted to do my father proud. Like a f.u.c.king idiot, I believed I was doing the right thing."

"Tell it all; tell me the whole story, Zane." I needed it to be said out loud. I needed him to tell it - everything at once.

"I was to befriend Bryan. To recruit him so Xander wouldn't lay claim to him. Once your grandfather died, there wouldn't be anyone else to take over. Rage would become weak, and my father would swoop in and claim them, too. With your brother a member of Savage Blood, Rage would have no chance."