Alphas Rise: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 1) Read online

  She squinted her eyes closed and held in the urge to be sick when she heard Gwinn giggle again.

  She flung the door open, ready to see King loving a girl that was just as naïve and innocent as she was when they first met.

  That’s not what she saw.

  Gwinn was on the floor with her legs crossed, dressed in pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt. An array of candles were before her, some lit, others not. King was perched on the window sill, staring down.

  “I did it, Reveca!” Gwinn said as she looked over her shoulder.

  A somewhat shocked smile came to Reveca, and she managed to pull forth a sweet tone. “I see. Good. You found the rush.”

  “King said it was all about emotions, that I had be excited, had to feel exaltation. It took me awhile but I got it.”

  Reveca’s stare moved to King’s. She didn’t find any ease there; no, it was like he could see everywhere Talon had touched her moments before. A sizzling sting engaged that hum that lingered near her in his presence.

  He had no right, she thought to herself. No right to look at her like that. They’d lost each other long ago. They’d both clearly moved on. Yet at the same time she felt guilty, guilty as hell, like she had not only just cheated on this connection she had with King, but had been for ages.

  She couldn’t handle that. No, she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—see what her and Talon had as torrid.

  Reveca leaned her head back, trying to keep the tears at bay and said, “You and me…we need to set some things straight.”

  For the first time in a long time Reveca felt fear. She was terrified of the emotions that were swelling to the surface of her soul.

  He was destroying her.

  She knew he was.

  He was taking her back to another life, one where she had hope, happiness, to when she believed in the impossible.

  In the dim gleam of the room she watched as his ice blue stare leisurely dipped to Gwinn, then slowly rose to meet Reveca’s haunted gaze.

  “That, we do sweet.”

  Episode Four

  Chapter One

  Mercy. Compassion for those under your power. Kindness you deliver as you ease their troubled thoughts. These were things Reveca knew King would not offer her, not if any part of Kenson was still within him. Kenson had no issues telling someone like it was. He did, however, have issues conveying his personal feelings, emotions that he feared because they were mysterious to him. He feared them because they represented something he could lose, that would weaken him, force him to bend to the will of others.

  Though Reveca and Kenson’s time was brief compared to her long stay in one existence, it felt like lifetimes to her twenty-year-old soul, and in that span of time he waited until the very last moment to tell her how he’d felt all along. He’d deprived them the bliss of that emotion then.

  Reveca was doing her best to drown her unwarranted guilt with anger. Telling herself over and over that she did all she could—she fought for him and they still took him. He was the one that was weak. He’s the one that managed to find a way back to her, or to at least see her, only he saw the wrong sister. He was too weak to see past that, to look a little closer and understand some greater force was playing him.

  And it was him that moved on to some unknown life that she wasn’t sure she was ready to understand.

  Before King even had a chance to rise from the windowsill, before either of them had a chance to stifle the tension in the room, for Gwinn’s benefit alone, lights flashed across his shadowed image.

  Red and blue ones.

  Right then Reveca heard ‘dinner is ready’ echo from her phone.

  That didn’t concern her, not nearly as much as Gwinn’s reaction. Pure panic overcame her. She stood from her relaxed position on the floor, knocked over lit candles in her fright as she rushed to find a place to hide.

  Reveca charged forward stomping out the flames. King approached Gwinn with his hands lifted in a peaceful gesture, with a sweet smile on his lips. “You’re fine,” his deep velvet voice promised.

  “No, no, no,” Gwinn said reaching to grasp her head as if the worst headache in the history of headaches had just assaulted her. “They’re going to hurt me,” she wailed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to find her breath.

  “No one’s taking you, I guarantee it,” King said as he slowly approached her.

  Gwinn trembled, looking all around at the flash of blue and red lights that were illuminating the room.

  The second King touched her, pulled her to his chest, she grasped him as if he were a life force, buried her face in his chest and began to cry.

  Reveca pulled the drapes closed with a glance. The darkness seemed to calm Gwinn down even more. Or it could have been how King’s hand was slowly easing over her head as if she were a lost child that he wanted to feel safe.

  “Keep her quiet in here,” Reveca ordered, as she turned and left the room.

  The second she got to the hall, she saw Thames and Echo running up the stairs, shedding everything they were wearing. They rushed down the hall to Thames’s room, one that faced the front of the home.

  Thames pulled out uniforms from his closet, tossed Echo one. Each of them could shift into any appearance but they could not shift their clothes.

  It had been a good six months since the Boneyard had been raided but the boys knew the game plan. They’d shift into a close enough resemblance of other officers so that they could blend in. They would make sure any and all Sons in the Club never made it in the van. Others, ones that were just passing through, they would. But the boys would do their best to keep anyone who was in hiding safe and sound. Those that did end up in that trap, the Sons would find a way to get them out within a few days’ time.

  “Who has warrants?” Echo said as he started to pull his uniform on.

  Thames shouted out a list of names of those in the Club that were treading a dangerous line with the lawmen and those that were just hanging out or passing through. Most of the charges were disorderly conduct or assaults; a few were more serious.

  The Pentacle Sons didn’t ask you to reveal too much when you passed through the Boneyard, but they always asked what your history with the law was. They wanted no surprises, wanted to be able to cover up anything that came their way.

  “On parole? Probation?” Echo pushed.

  Everyone on the lot was armed. They would be even without the run they had planned tonight. But still, if you were in the system you couldn’t carry. No doubt that was something the lawmen were counting on. They always did this, would swoop in, hope their stupid reason would stick or they’d find at least a few to take in. And out of those few they hoped to twist them—amp up the already inflated charges and push those in custody to turn on someone else.

  Sadly, in some cases they did manage to catch someone who had a lot to lose, who was staring at three strikes. The idea of time, it could mess with anyone’s mind. At the same time, the idea of turning on the Sons was downright suicidal.

  “Most of those guys are in the lounge,” Echo said as he listened to what Thames said. “They haven’t gone in there yet,” Echo said as his sharp gaze moved across the lot.

  The lawmen always wanted you to think they had free rein to go anywhere with the piece of paper they would wave around, but that was far from true. The fact that they’d not gone in the lounge as of yet was a good sign. It meant as long as they didn’t see anything that would give them cause to enter they were left outside like a stray dog in the rain.

  Reveca was betting the partition between the garage and the lounge was pulled long before the police cars made it to the front lot.

  “What they hell is going on?” Reveca demanded as she watched Thames stare out the window as he dressed. They were trying to figure out which lawmen to shift into. They had to pick someone who was in charge, which the other officers would not question. At the same time they had to figure out how to proceed so that the officers they shifted into didn’t see them, and
if they did…well, Thames would deal with that later, push a different point of view into their mind, make them remember the night a different way.

  “They came out of nowhere. We didn’t even hear it on the radio. Made everyone in the lot put their hands up, have a lot of them on the ground,” Echo said.

  Thames was staring out the window as he pulled the last of his uniform together. “Those two,” he said to Echo.

  Echo looked down and nodded. Right then they both morphed into the images of two officers in tactical gear downstairs.

  Just then, a pounding on the front door began.

  Echo and Thames rushed past her. Reveca calmly walked out behind them, then nodded for them to go down the back stairs that would lead them to the kitchen, then down to an old crawl space that was used as a refrigerator back in the day before electricity was a must, finally outside. There, hopefully, with the help of any of the other Sons in the life that had not already been seized, they could find a way to take action and control who was being put in the vans.

  The pounding on the door sounded two more times before Reveca made her way there.

  She let a slight expression of shock come to her as she took in the scene in her front yard: the twenty plus police cars with their lights flashing, the tactical vans, and the undercover cars. In the distance she did see more than a few bikers laid on the ground, with their hands behind their heads, being searched. The officers were collecting masses of guns as they patted each of them down.

  “Blackwater,” Reveca said with a narrowed stare on him. He stood on her front porch with a smug grin, his suit nice and damp from the sweat he was clearly drowning in. Behind him there was host of other lawmen.

  “Miss Beauregard, I’m speaking to you as a courtesy. We have a warrant,” Blackwater said flashing a piece of paper in her face.

  Reveca kept her placid expression as she reached for it. Blackwater held it back.

  “I have a right to see that. Are you denying me that right? I want to be clear on my account of this evening when my lawyer asks me.”

  One of the men in a suit next to Blackwater nodded for him to hand it over. He must be the guy that makes sure their corrupt department doesn’t get sued.

  Reveca’s eyes glided over the warrant in an unnervingly calm manner. “You have a warrant to search Holden’s place of residence.”

  “And anything in plain sight,” Blackwater said with an arrogant grin.

  “Holden didn’t live here, or the garage that your men are invading, or in the lot where you’re holding innocent men at gunpoint.”

  “That a fact?”

  “You know damn well the home he lived in was at the edge of this property, in a shotgun swamp house.”

  “I must have forgotten. Well, nevertheless, to get to that portion of your property we had to come through your front gate, and when we came in your front gate we saw armed men drinking.”

  “On private property. They have a right to carry.”

  “Do they? Well we weren’t sure about that. Always erring on the side of caution, we felt the need to ensure our officers’ safety.”

  Reveca pointed to the right of the property, to the very few distant lights in the darkness. “Do you need me to walk you to Holden’s place?”

  “You can direct my officers. They can search and you and I can go over the reason I have this warrant, if you would kindly invite me in. It’s awful hot out here. A nice cold drink may squash all this tension.”

  “You want me to invite you into my home so you can pretend you saw something in plain sight then rip my belongings to shreds. I think not.”

  “You got something to hide, Miss Beauregard?” Blackwater said as a smile slithered across his face.

  “No, I’ve been pretty clear on my obvious lack of trust in a police force that has managed to sweep my mother’s murder under the rug.”

  Blackwater went ridged. On the inside Reveca was grinning. Sometimes she thought Blackwater thinking he killed her, or rather her mother, long ago, his betrayal, was the best gift Blackwater had ever given her. The guilt on his face and the fear that he would be discovered was so evident each time that Reveca threw a comment like that at him, that she had no idea how the man had not openly confessed at this point. But then again, he was a testimony to how wicked humanity had become.

  She looked to the man just beside Blackwater. “Are you a commanding officer?”

  “I am,” the older man, who looked to be about two seconds away from retirement, answered.

  “Maybe you can help me then. Blackwater likes to tell me often that my mother’s case is open and active but I have seen no new leads come to light. What do you know about the man that killed my mother in cold blood? Where did you get with that theory that my mother knew her killer, that she may have even trusted them?”

  “Miss Beauregard, right now, we are actively investigating a recent murder. You, of all people, should know how important it is to collect all the evidence needed before the case grows cold,” the man said.

  “You’re actively investigating a murder that you have a solid confession for?” Reveca said as she lifted one brow.

  “There are other variables that we have not disclosed to the public, Miss Beauregard. We have a confession that fits part of the crime scene but no weapon. Holden gave us permission to search his property for the weapon. He can’t seem to recall what he did with it after the murder.”

  “The murder of a dead man,” Reveca said with an easy smile.

  “We do have clear evidence that he was around Newberry before he managed to break all the bones in his body. Holden is unclear how that could have happened but stated he was unequivocally at the home that night and days before he shot the vic’s corpse.”

  “Really?” Reveca said with genuine shock. She wasn’t exactly sure what Thames had pushed into Newberry’s mind but at the same time it would have been odd for him to plant memories that could be disproved.

  “Would you like to lead us to the swamp house, or for us to knock the door down?” the commanding officer asked.

  “I’d like for your men to let my guests off the gravel ground. I’d like for them to stop looking through the windows of my garage…again, is that legal? Hell, it doesn’t matter. I will just show the security footage to my lawyer and let them sort out all the technicalities.”

  “If they’re convicted criminals, and they’re carrying, then they’re going to be taken away. If you’re confused as to why, I’m sure whatever overworked lawyer you have will explain why,” Blackwater said.

  It was infuriating. It really was. For anyone to stereotype any group of people. Yes, they were bikers. Yes, they were men and women who loved to live on the edge of life and who were intelligent enough to question unlawful authority. But that was the extent of what they all had in common.

  Like any group of people there were some that had been down a dark road, made mistakes, crossed too many lines with the lawmen. Hell, they even got off on that. The deal was though, that even though several were armed in that lot, even though more than half had volunteered to be a distraction this night as Talon and the boys saved those girls—most of them were just red-blooded Americans. At best they had a few speeding tickets and defended the rights that, in their mind, became fewer and fewer with each generation.

  Their definition of a party was hanging out with their family and friends, with good food and fast jokes in abundance. In Reveca’s mind they were saints of this current population of humanity. She saw them that way because they didn’t judge, they didn’t turn their backs on those that had a hard life and made wrong choices. If you respected them, you’d get that in return. That was a law around here. That was the reason the Boneyard was a place that everyone that loved the life made a point to travel to annually, if not more often.

  Reveca glanced to the lot. In the chaos she saw Thames and Echo, masked in the image of the other officers, somewhat roughly throwing men into the back of a van.

  Talon and Judge mad
e their way out of the lounge. They were both instantly searched, and when no weapons were found on them they were allowed to pass. Both made their way to Reveca.

  “This way gentleman,” Reveca said stepping off her porch.

  “Maybe we’ll have that tall glass of tea when we’re done,” Blackwater said as he walked beside Reveca. The other officers were a few paces before them. “Then we can talk about how you wouldn’t have had to be caught off guard like you were tonight if you and I had found a way to work together.”

  “I’m not caught off guard.”

  “Surely you had some plans we ruined this evening.”

  “Another boring night in the Boneyard, Blackwater. I don’t know what fantasies you jackoff to when you think of my business, but it’s nothing more than a hangout for bike lovers.”

  He laughed. “Then it must have changed from your mother’s time. Back then, sex, money, and power ruled this place.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “I observe well.”

  “But surely never participated,” Reveca said as Talon made his way to her side, and let his fingers lace through hers.

  By the time they reached the swamp house, other cop cars were parked out front; lights were shining on the home, or rather shack.

  “Would you like to open the door, Miss Beauregard?” the older officer asked.

  Reveca, Talon, and Judge had stopped a good hundred feet away from the swamp house, let the others move closer, close enough that the older officer was ticked that he had to walk all the way back to her.

  The grass was thick, tall, and damp, not fun to tread through, and it sure as hell wasn’t fun to think about what might be lurking within it.

  “You want me to walk up to a swamp house that has its back half literally sits on the swamp, a house that no one has been into in weeks—at night? I think not.” Reveca said with a wink.

  “We’ll knock the door down,” he threatened.

  “Knock the whole damn thing down.”