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"Hello Rowan," a man says. “It’s good to see you again. I’ve been waiting a long time.” The man slowly comes forward, his hulking form taking shape. A smirk plastered on his face as he takes a step towards me.
The sourness of Marco's presence is like a dark cloud looming. “What are you doing here Marco?” I ask, my mind spinning in confusion, trying to figure things out. How long was sitting in the dark? How long were we vulnerable for? Where is James?
A twisted smirk spreads on his face. "I want what's mine," he says, his eyes flick over my body. Gross. "You look just as beautiful as the last time I saw you." He licks his lips and I want to vomit. The last time I saw him I was eighteen years old. Fucking rapist. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I fell in love with you then.”
"Cut the crap, Marco. What do you want?" He has the nerve to look injured. I’m confused. He’s in love with me? What kind of utter nonsense is he spouting?
“So, you do have a little spine after all? Interesting.” His face twists into a maniacal mask, fangs dropping from his gums. “I’m not sure I like it, but I’ll have time later.” His gaze is assessing, oily. I shudder. “To train you properly. My wife should be biddable. Because I love you, I’ll let this instance pass.” He gives me a look from beneath hooded eyes. The urge to vomit is back.
I step back involuntarily, my hand clenching around the sandwich in one hand so tightly the mayonnaise is oozing from its edges. “I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you want, but you won’t get it.” I sense Riven on the periphery of the darkened hallway, but I wave him back with one hand. I’m sure he is unhappy about it, but hearing what Marco wants seems like the primary objective. It makes me feel better that he’s close.
“What do I want? Well, that’s easy, you and everything that comes with you. You mostly. But the Syndicate. Everything. It’s mine. You’re mine.” His laugh is bordering on the edge of maniacal glee. “And killing Riven. I want that too.”
With that bombshell, Marco steps back towards the outside sliding door, his malevolent smirk etched on his face as he disappears into the darkness. I’m stunned, leaning against the counter with pieces of sandwich dangling between myfingers as I shake them into the sink, my appetite gone as Riven comes into the kitchen on silent feet.
“Interesting.” Riven’s hands settle onto my shoulders, gently rubbing the tension from my neck. The words are still bouncing through my skull.I love you. Dully I turn to look up at Riven, who is looking down at me without concern.
“He’s gone,” I answer. “He said he wants me. Loves me?” Even to me, I sound confused, unlike myself. I had given up on taking a backseat in life when my parents died, but apparently, I am still sitting on the sidelines. “Why? Why did he say that?” My voice rises on each word. I sound unhinged as I turn my face up to Riven’s. “Does he think I would be with him?” That matters more to me than anything.
“I don’t know why he would think that.” His voice is soft and quiet. The idea that Marco could have such interest is bizarre. That he could gain any foothold for the Syndicate is terrible, but now it is even worse to consider that it could be possible.
“I heard it all Red.” Riven's expression hardens. "He can’t have you," he says firmly. "You’re mine. It doesn’t matter what he said. He can’t fucking have you." He pulls me to him, lending me hisstrength for a moment. I soak it in. We knew Marco might come here. That was what Riven had told me anyway, that we were bait. However, the reality has left a sour taste in my mouth. I wasn’t expecting the man to be just lurking downstairs waiting specifically forme.
“Are we going after him then?” I ask. “He’s been going after Syndicate territory, right? He probably killed Lillian too?”
"Yes," Riven says, rubbing comforting circles on my back. “We are just waiting for James. Did you get your sandwich? Or did the bastard interrupt your snack.” Apparently, that pisses him off more as he takes in the sight of my mangled food in the sink. Methodically he assembles sandwiches on the countertop.
Just as I finish the first half of my sandwich, James returns to the kitchen, looking serious. "I hope one of those is for me," he says, pulling out a barstool. "I could use a drink too."
Standing, I head over to the refrigerator and slide out his plate, adding a few pickles on the side, then stack it high with the chips. Sliding it over to him, I watch Riven hand him a glass of whiskey.
James gives me a nod. “Thanks Rowan. You remembered.” He prods the pickles with a finger and pops one in his mouth.
“Well, out with it, asshole.” Riven plops down next to him. “I know you got him.”
“Yeah, I followed him all the way,” James affirms. “He’s at the location near the ridge. Pretty hefty set-up there, if I’m being honest. We’ll need help.”
I’m surprised, James could follow Marco and not be seen. Impressive. Not sure what to expect from Riven, but I’m quiet as Riven’s fingers beat a rhythm against the crystal of his glass.
“We’ll call Charming,” he finally says.Charming?I think.Prince Charming. Confused, I want to interject, but one thing I learned with Lillian was that you could learn more by listening than by blurting out unnecessarily.
"This was an interesting move," Riven says. "Why come here? Do you think he’s serious? If he's after the Syndicate, that seems to be a separate target? If he’s after Rowan, then he theoretically could have tried to grab her."
“I’m not sure,” James answers. “The compound that I saw was organized, fortified. Probably their main hub. “There are ogres working for them. That’ll be rough.”
Neither of them looked as if they were excited about the prospect of a fighting force that included ogres. I’d never heard of such a thing, but my experience in the Syndicate had been peripheral. Lillian had agreed to train me in basic hand-to-hand and weapons so I could protect myself. She’d not been willing to get me overly involved.
“Call some of our men,” Riven added. “Let’s get additional personnel up here. I want this wiped up. Nothing left to chance. All of them.” Riven is completely serious. There is no room to mistake what he means.
“One more thing before you call Charming,” James adds as Riven stands, looming over both of us. James is met only by a grunt. “Marco– his wolf shift is rogue form. Did you know that?”
Looking to Riven, I can tell that this news also shocked him. The rogue form of a shifter only occurs under very specific circumstances. First, the shifter must be made, not born. It has been against kingdom law for quite a while to create additional shifters without authorization. Thatdoesn’t mean it doesn’t happen, but certainly regulations are in place. The second important piece is that the maker cuts their bond, it is a brutal process and a deliberate one. Cruel. Typically, what follows is death. Very few survive the process, if they do, they are hunted and killed on sight. Their minds become twisted as well as their shift.
“Well, that is interesting, no – I didn’t know that,” Riven says thoughtfully. “It must have happened after the attack on you, Rowan, because just before that, we had done a run with some other shifters there in the woods. He was present and his shift was normal back then.”
“Do you think that he’s the rogue who I saw in Holden?” I broach the topic cautiously, but I see Riven’s jaw firm up. Obviously, he hadn’t thought of that.
“Motherfucker.” He swallows hard. “It’s possible.”
