Page 17 of Caretaker

Chapter Six

“Go on, then.” Beardy crossed his arms. “Don’t back out now. He can’t hurt you.”

Hurt me? Hurt me?

I closed my eyes for a second, clenching my teeth against the boiling rage that rose up so suddenly I was taken off guard. It was a killing rage. A rage so filled with hatred and frustration that I couldn’t breathe through it.

It was the rage Amias had created inside me the night he’d tried to kill me, the rage once reserved for only him.

Shane knew. He and I were connected as hunter and bloodhunter, and he felt the darkness inside me. I knew he could feel it because I could feel his.

He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled my shaking, stiff body back against his, then put his lips to my ear. “Control it, Bloodhunter.”

His whisper echoed through my entire body.

It gave me something to concentrate on besides the rage, the pain, the injustice. And as I followed that whisper, I regained my control.

The guards watched with impassive faces and curious stares. Beardy walked to stand beside Angus and as I watched, he patted Angus on the head.

Like Angus was his little pet dog instead of a huge supernatural who, if he could have freed himself, would have ripped off the guard’s head and stuffed it up his ass.

Al walked toward the guards. “Can we smoke in here?”

“Sure, buddy,” one of them said.

Al laughed. “In that case, can I bum a cigarette? I left mine in the car.” Then he began chatting about something nonsensical, something that had the guards laughing and handing smokes all around, and I understood at that moment that one of Al’s talents was distraction.

He knew how to handle situations.

How to handle people.

That was why he hadn’t shut up the entire time we’d been in the car.

I calmed a little more, then lifted my fingers to the ugly piece of jewelry pinned to my shirt and gave it a tiny squeeze. Thanks, Rhys.

Sometimes a person didn’t need a fighter at her back. Sometimes she needed a thinker.

Rhys had been right about something else, as well. He would not have been safe here. Not only would he have been in danger, but we all would have been. If the guards had noticed he wasn’t human, they’d have tried to take him. And we wouldn’t have let them—not without a fight.

The Byrdcage was not a place for free supernaturals.

I shuddered and stepped out of Shane’s embrace.

I took a deep breath, then strode across the floor to Angus.

My supernatural.

One of my supernaturals.

The rest of the room disappeared as I stood in front of him. Al and the other guards joked and talked and laughed, but their voices faded away. Beardy watched me like a hawk, but I forgot about him.

Shane stayed at my back, his warmth heating my chilled body. It’d be okay. It would.

I slid my fingers over Angus’s face, closing my eyes as I leaned into him and put my lips to his ear. “Just a few more days. You’ll be home as soon as I can get you there.”

Then I inhaled, deeply, pulling the scent of him into my brain. It was faint, buried beneath the stench of prison and sorrow and darkness, but it was there.

“That perfect scent,” I murmured. “I can’t resist it.”