Taken (Sinful Series - book 1)
Chapter 14 - Friends

Xander

The silence felt awkward at first but as the miles increased, Violet’s face returned its color. It was another hour before she was finally sleeping, head resting against the window. Xander had no doubt she hadn’t slept much or even at all last night. Blinking every so often did not count as a good night sleep, Xander doubted she had closed her eyes for longer than the few seconds her long eyelashes took to caress her cheeks. The dark shadows under her eyes betraying how exhausted she was.

Xander had faith. Faith in Alpha Jacob, who was surely going to help. He had to help. There was no other solution. The situation was one of the most desperate kinds. As much as Violet needed a second chance, Xander wanted a win, or else life would never make sense to him. So he focused at the job at hand, getting her on Howler’s territory as fast as possible, even if that meant risking a speeding ticket. Her breaths evened out as the distance between her and Karim increased.

It wasn’t until he stopped for gas that she finally woke up, wanting to freshen up. Xander was just about contemplating checking on her, when she finally emerged from the restroom, skin paler than he could remember. It was difficult seeing such a vibrant and strong she-wolf broken by a man, Xander once considered a friend. She eased into the passenger seat, while Xander pointed the sandwich already waiting for her. Her nose scrunched up before she shook her head.

“At least drink this,” Xander told her, giving her an iced tea.

“Only because you asked me so nicely,” Violet gifted him a genuine smile before taking the plastic cup from his hands.

“And the sandwich?”

“It just smells nauseating. I don’t want anywhere near it. You eat it,” Violet replied, patted his arm and stepped out of the car to get some fresh air.

Xander shrugged. She wolves and food. He wasn’t going to let a good tuna sandwich go to waste so he bid into it. It was as delicious as he remembered.

That was four hours ago. They were now approaching the main building of the complex that Alpha Jacob called home. Xander nervously tapped his fingers against the car wheel.

This had to work. There was no other option.

Violet

There was no grand scheme of things. There was no plan. There were only choices, and their consequences. In retrospect, she couldn’t blame anyone but herself for her decisions. She had chosen to mark Xander, to forgive Karim and to ignore her gut feeling about them. She had allowed the mating pull to dictate the terms of their relationship. And they had failed. Awfully, miserably, terribly. The life she lived was the byproduct of the world she created. It did hurt to admit you were the source of all evil. Nobody liked seeing themselves that way. But once she had accepted responsibly of her actions, she was able to pass all the pain and move on.

True, there was still some lingering disappointment from the way Karim handled their relationship, but Violet had clear conscious. She had made a decision, owned its consequences. She had fought for Karim’s acceptance and heart. Her love was freely given to him. How he chose to channel it was on him, and Violet had no doubt that karma, the sleek bitch that she was, was going to have his ass soon.

Showing understanding, allowing him time and space to make his own mind about their relationship, were the hardest things she had done. She didn’t make any great ultimatums or great demands; she hadn’t taken the choice from him.

True, she was not particularly happy of how things turned out to be, but she was not going to grovel and beg to be loved. At the end of the day, Violet had respect for the woman she had become. She couldn’t say the same for neither Alyssa, nor Karim. But it was their choice, and they had to learn to live with their consequences, just as Violet did.

Choices and consequences.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Landon

Visiting Alpha Ethan Aberdeen was anything but pleasure. If hitting every single traffic light in town wasn’t enough to make this trip twice as long as it should have been, Alpha Ethan was close to half an hour late for their meeting. Landon wasn’t sure how to proceed. He usually dealt with Alphas eager to take advantage of his skill set, thus they paid for his time. Landon wanted to be understanding with Aberdeen, but it still rubbed him the wrong way as to why he hadn’t sent any messengers announcing he was running late. Landon had the sick feeling the Alpha was testing him, which also irritated him to no end. Just as he was considering walking away from the prospective meeting, and any information Ethan might have for him, the devil rolled in.

“Things take longer than they used to,” Ethan’s excuse was short, clipped, and rushed. Landon could not quite well read Aberdeen who made it around his desk, then continued, “I guess I should ask how you are doing and all that, but you’re not here for small talk. You won’t be able to hide your interest in Creed and stay with the MC for much longer.”

That intel could potentially be worth the thirty minutes spent in solitude in the comfortable study. Landon was impressed someone had made the connection, as he had tried to keep his two obsessions separate, going as far as renting two places for the sake of the secrecy.

Creed was a popular street drug, producing an extended high in humans seemingly without any other side effects than slight elevation of temperature and pulse. No headache, no food cravings, no visible signs of abuse. While Creed was the new ultimate high among humans, it was a chemical weapon when given to werewolves.

Shifters ran on the hotter side – hot tempers, increased libido, and higher core body temperature. Those small physiological differences made the drug dangerous for weres as it produced even more heat. The few things that were known about the trendy drug, were alarming.

Creed messed up with the primal temperature center, shocking the body with series of heat waves, frying Goddess knows how many connections in the brain, and enlarging the blood vessels in torso while constricting those in the limbs. In short, it turned the body in a bloody piñata with a brain the size of a pea, increasing the chance to experience sudden cardiac arrest, stroke, and even a frost bite. The contradicting impulses informing the overloaded brain with information about the high core temperature and the low one in the limbs incapacitated the center. The heat regulating system was ultimately going to fail as shown by the alarming number of deaths associated with Creed. The victims came from all walks of life, rogue, pack or titled werewolves, werecats, and werebears – none of the shifter subspecies was spared. Whether it was the coincidence of a slightly altered physiology or carefully engineered weapon, remained to be seen. One thing was for certain, as long as there was Creed, every shifter was in danger.

For the last six months, Landon was purposefully ignoring job offers, so he could pursue the irradiation of Creed. It wasn’t enough taking the drug off the market, or interrupting the supply rings; Landon wanted to permanently shut down the operations, which meant catching and disposing of the men in charge. There were usually three people in charge of every new synthetic: the Chemist, the Bank and the Distributor. Just as their names hinted, they served a special purpose within the business.

“How do you know?”

“You’re not as efficient as you might think silencing witnesses,” Ethan replied.

“Who talked?”

“What…” Ethan corrected him then applied, “Surveillance camera in Bohemia. My guy took care of it. You’re welcome.”

“What do you want?”

“Can’t I just be making friendly gesture?”

“Are you?”

“Are we friends?”

“Alpha, I don’t have time for this,” Landon sternly told him. He hated the political “feelers” before the speaker said what they truly meant, and in this case, wanted.

“Fine, be that way. I am helping you so you can finally settle in being Jacob’s Beta.”

“What’s in it for you?” Landon asked.

“I get a favor with powerful ally. As you have noticed, things are not what they used to be, and there is no lack of pretenders. I need to know who my friends are, and what better way to start friendship than on a free exchange of information.”

“Then you should have called Ryan.”

“You see Ryan is a good Gamma, but he lacks a certain initiative. You have no problem telling Jacob off, so you won’t be overly sympathetic and concerned of hurting my feelings or station. I need someone who would be able to hold me accountable, and calls me out on my shit. Besides, your network is vaster even than Pack Order’s one. A man would be foolish not to align his interests with yours.”

“Fine, I will keep an ear out for you and your territory.”

“And I promise, I won’t rat you to Jacob. Where’s the fun in that?” Ethan sighed, and then waved him off. “It might come as a surprise to you, but this is as much excitement I have gotten in the last year. So there’s no way I’d let Jacob shut your operations down. If anything, I want in.”

“And what that may be?”

“I am wheel-chair-bound, not blind, Landon,” Ethan shook his head, “You’re solving Noah’s murder. That’s the only way you will be able to take his spot with clear conscious, seeing that it was his recommendation that brought Jacob in your life. And no, Jacob didn’t tell me. I am just an exceptional detective, and you need one, since you’ve haven’t made much progress in the last six months.”

It was easier to pull teeth than to extract information from an Alpha. Landon knew from experience, Alphas needed a different kind of motivation.

“School me,” Landon challenged the Alpha.

“There were no witnesses to the attack. The coroner’s report puts the time of death around the time of his morning patrol. There’s no way that a shifter, who’s familiar with Creed, would consider using it especially on a run. Something is off. I assume he saw something or someone, he wasn’t supposed to, and that got him killed.” Ethan recapped, “Then you rode in on a Harley just in time to join the Dragons. Coincidence? I think not, and I am not the only one.”

Ethan tossed a folder at Landon. Surveillance photos from his first meeting in the motor club and his initiation quickly revealed what Landon expected, but wrote off as paranoia. Someone was watching him.

“Independent contractor or Pack Order?” Landon asked.

There was always the hope, it was an amateur.

“Vincent Hildegard,” Ethan snickered.

Of course, it had to be “Hildi” and not some amateur, Landon swore. At this rate, Landon would have even been happier with a stalker.

“I believe you were acquainted. In case you are wondering, you’re on his naughty list.”

Landon wouldn’t be surprised if he was the image on his target practices. There was bad blood between them, not that Landon cared or remembered why. Pesky feuds were not worth his time. But he could understand the irritation Hildegard would have with him, since there weren’t many jobs for Fixers to begin with. Landon could easily acquire and complete contracts in one the third of the time others did. It was one of the few advantages of not having a mate and home to go back home to. It also meant Landon managed and closed more contracts than all others, thus establishing his name as the ultimate fixer. The competition was rightfully jealous as he was offered jobs first, and only the listings he passed on were announced to others.

“He is convinced you are planning to stand by Jacob’s side. He has been poaching your referrals, mudding the water for you, if you catch my drift.”

“Good for him,” Landon genuinely didn’t care about his competition as long as Hildegard did not interfere with his projects. There were plenty of tasks to be done, and only so much time he could spend on the contracts he took. His limited contract hours allowed him to pursuit Creed, creating a surplus in listings for a capable Fixer. It was only a matter of time before another Fixer tried to settle in the region. Landon wasn’t particularly excited about having to deal with Hildegard’s pettiness on daily basis, but it was what it was.

“Introduction rate, half your pay,” Ethan informed him. “He’s offering quite nice retention rate, too.”

It was a good marketing strategy. Come in low and gain the low hanging fruit, then hopefully earn return business now paying full price for his services. Hildegard was poaching his territory, looking for a fight, and Landon knew it was inevitable. Werewolves only learned lessons in blood and sweat.

“It’s a good offer. You should consider it,” Landon told him.

“Your old school loyalty makes your assistance priceless,” Ethan shrugged.

Landon smiled. Alphas were always eager to take on the credit for the job well done, and Landon did not wish to bite the hand that fed him. Besides he was never interested in the glory or respect. He just wanted the challenge, the adrenaline rush.

“So what did you want to tell me about Creed?”

“It can take a while,” Ethan smiled and gestured towards the leather seat across from him.