CHAPTER1
REN
Donatello’s words sound like an alien language. They don’t make sense at first, neither at second. I keep staring at him, waiting for him to translate, to try again. The surprise of seeing him once more washes off, and the only thing left behind is confusion.
The shackles around Cass’ wrists are going to explode? I can’t have gotten it right. How would this even be possible? They’re thin straps of silver. They can’t be bombs. And why would the Collector want to hurt her like this? My stomach twists and turns, and my mind grows fuzzy as I watch Donatello and Cassandra exchanging words.
Apollo steps up, his big frame exuding pure authority. He glares at Donatello so hard I’m surprised the vampire doesn’t burst into flames where he stands. “Why do you think we would trust you?” Apollo spits, his upper lip curling, showing his teeth. He doesn’t have pointy fangs like Donatello, but he’s so big I know he’d give Donnie a run for his money. “You almost got Cassandra killed.”
Donatello’s face pales, his brows furrowing. That’s regret on his face if I ever saw it. Regret and something else, like desperation, like hopelessness. My heart squeezes just from the look on his face. We worked well, the three of us protecting her, even for a short time. I felt like we were family. Like we were the beginning of something I’ve been longing for.
I can’t blame Apollo for mistrusting him, though. I was there, and I saw it when Donnie was ordered to capture Cass — and he obeyed. He would have taken her if she didn’t fight back, if she hadn’t allowed her powers to come up and take over. With the other vampires fighting us, Apollo and I were as good as if she were alone.
Cass’ fierceness and strength amaze me, and I’m so damn proud of being her mate, but it’s bitter to know she can’t count on me. I’m not as strong as I once believed I was.
Donatello sighs, defeat on his face. “I know. It’s complicated.” He turns to Cassandra, his eyes pleading. “Why would I come here and tell you this if I didn’t have your best interest at heart?”
“Obviously a trap,” Apollo barks.
“Who’s this again?” Tristan asks me in what I guess is supposed to be a whisper, but comes out too loud. The dog looks up at me, as if waiting for an answer, too.
Donatello blinks twice, his forehead creasing. “I ask the same. Who are you?”
“Tristan,” the gargoyle introduces himself in a matter-of-fact word, staring at Donatello with growing suspicion. His shoulders tighten, his hands closing into fists as he steps closer to Cassandra. “Is he a threat?” he asks in that not-a-whisper voice.
I sigh in response, unsure of what to say. Donatello wasn’t just a part of us — he was the first, and I can see how conflicted Cassandra is. Her shoulders pulled back, she changes her weight from feet to feet, watching the exchange, glancing at Donnie with big, hopeful eyes. She wants an excuse, an explanation, anything to convince herself to trust Donnie again. Damn it, I’m with her. There’s not much I wouldn’t do to have that chemistry back. With Tristan, it would be even better.
“Of course he’s a threat,” Apollo roars, shock on his face as he glares between Cassandra and I. We did fail to reply. I shoot her a reassuring glance. She needs to know she’s not alone in this. Apollo raises a finger. “First, he’s a vampire. That already puts him in the danger list from the get-go.”
“That’s racist,” Tristan points out, and I swear, I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Donatello shoots me a glance, and I see a tiny smile curling his lip.
A vein pulses in Apollo’s temple. Maybe the heightened emotions aren’t doing him good. How old is he, anyway? Older than the rest of us, definitely. Not Donnie, though. Donnie is a different case. Apollo does look like he’s about to have a stroke.
He raises a second finger, half-lowering the first one. Is he giving Tristan the middle-finger? Is that a subtle way his subconscious found to tell the gargoyle to fuck off? “Second, his boss was using his phone to track us, and when the fucker found us, this traitor,” he points at Donatello, the tip of his finger an inch from the vampire’s nose, “tried to take Cassandra from us.”
Tristan shakes his head slowly. “That’s very bad. We shouldn’t trust him.”
“Exactly!” Apollo throws his hands up, glad someone is on his side. It isn’t quite fair since Tristan doesn’t have the entire story, but Apollo doesn’t mind. “My suggestion is we kill him.”
“Okay,” Tristan replies promptly, cracking his knuckles.
This is getting out of hand too fast. “Wait!” I call out just as Cassandra steps closer to Donatello. About to protect him, I bet. She can’t deny how she feels toward him, the connection the two share even when there’s no mate bond. “We spent time together. There was... Something good between us,” I say, meeting Cass’ eyes. She lifts her chin, gratitude in her eyes. “Let’s hear him out. Let’s at least hear him out.” I want to say he deserves that, but something tells me Apollo would say he deserves nothing but a beating.
Apollo glares at me, then his shoulders drop and he looks at Cassandra. She’s buzzing with tension. I can feel it clearly through the mating bond growing between us. Tristan and Donnie turn to her too, and I find her gaze and hope she feels the reassurance beating inside my chest.
Cassandra tilts her chin up and crosses her arms. She is the center of us, the sun which we gravitate to. “I want to hear him out.” She faces Donatello, and the shadows seem to shiver around us. Cassandra grows, a presence, an authority I don’t think I had seen in her yet. “I want to knowwhy.”
Donatello’s shoulders droop, his head lolling to one side. His blond hair slides away from his throat, exposing it. I don’t think he’s aware of this, but showing off your neck is a show of submission in wolf packs. It feels natural for him to do this to Cassandra, though. Her presence grows between us.
“Inamorata,” Donatello starts, his voice soft and vulnerable. There’s something electric about his eyes, and even if he isn’t Cass’ mate, there’s a deep connection between the two. “Read my words. You’ll know if I’m lying.” He offers a hand, but Cassandra just stares at it, not accepting it. “I would never hurt you. I would kill myself before that happened.”
Apollo snorts. “Didn’t look like it.”
“I’ll have to agree with Apollo.” Cassandra lets her arms drop, her fingers brushing Donatello’s still open hand. “You would have taken me to him, wouldn’t you? I saw it on your face.”
Donatello takes a deep breath, putting his hands in his pockets. “Yes,” he says, and Apollo starts to roar, but Donatello raises a hand. “Yes, but not because I wanted to. I had no choice.”
“Explain.” Cassandra props her hands to her hips.