With the full glass of ambrosia still sitting in front of me, I listen as Jarah and Owen talk about the facility where Owen was kept. Both males’ words slur as they work through their third cup of ambrosia, but neither has lost their hold on reality yet. For Jarah to remain lucid after ingesting the powerful hallucinogen isn’t a surprise. He’s an ancient. For a single shifter to have consumed as much as Owen has drunk and still be able to form coherent sentences is another story.
“How did the shifters running this place control the Royals they held prisoner?” Jarah slides my full glass in front of Owen as he drains the last of his drink.
Licking his lips, Owen wraps his fingers around the thick glass, but he doesn’t raise it. He stares at the dark liquid. Silence reigns for several minutes as a glazed look slips over his eyes, the first sign the ambrosia is working through him.
Finally, Owen lifts the glass to his lips and takes a sip. His upper body sways slightly and his hands shake as he sets the drink down. “Drugs. Screwing with their minds and instincts. And…”
“And what?” I press as the glossy sheen over Owen’s eyes darkens, giving him a crazed glint.
Owen’s hands move in a jerking motion, nearly sloshing the ambrosia over the rim. He grips the glass with both hands and raises it to his open mouth. Drinking deeply, he drains the drink in one long swallow. Dribbles of dark liquid leak from the corners of his mouth. He closes his eyes on a groan and tips his head back. After a moment, he sits forward, the glass falling from his hand and crashing against the floor, and glances at me.
Full black eyes stare at me. No white, no color. I’m looking into the abyss of Owen’s soul, but it’s a familiar one.
“Death collars, Ilan. They restrain us through the use of death collars, drugs, and magic. Our only escape is death, but they bury our animals so deeply, we can’t shift, letting the death collars sever our heads.” Gabriel’s demented laugh trickles from Owen’s mouth. “Years, little brother. Maybe hundreds or thousands. I can’t judge time anymore. I just know I haven’t shifted in what seems like forever. I’m pretty sure my wolves are feral too. It’s probably a good thing I can’t let them out.”
Gabriel’s rough, broken voice doesn’t sound quite right coming out of Owen’s mouth, but I don’t question it’s my brother who’s speaking. I feel him, exactly as I felt Soren once he dropped the shield he held around his wolves. I’m in the presence of my pack mate, even if the male sitting across from me will never be a Kane.
“Where are you being held?” While I’d love more details of how this bond between Gabriel and Owen came to be, the practical matters need to be addressed first. I don’t know how long Gabriel will be able to control Owen.
“Underground. Deep underground.” Gabriel, in Owen’s body, stares at the table. “A mine, maybe. I taste coal dust in the air and feel the earth around me shaking at times.”
“Tell me what you remember about the area aboveground. Any distinguishing landmarks?” Without them, sheer luck will be the only way I’ll find my brother. Distance dims the ability to sense one another. Depending on how far down he’s being kept, I might not even feel Gabriel when I’m standing on the ground above him.
Gabriel shakes his head in a jerking motion, sending Owen’s hair swaying. “They drug me when they move me, but I’ve got to be close to where Owen was last kept. They haven’t moved me in a while, years maybe. Not sure, but I suspect they plan on moving me soon. That’s my only guess as to why they’ve started feeding me again. Likely, they’ve finally figured out what I haven’t wanted them to know. Whatever the reason, it’s going to kill me and Owen.”
“Moving you will kill you? How?” Jarah asks in a voice that still has a slight slur to it.
Gabriel’s all-black eyes focus on Jarah. “I fought the bond they tried to force on me and Owen. I didn’t want him tied to my soul, to my pack’s spirit. It was instinctual, you understand? I fought it with everything I had. I couldn’t stop it, though. They forced it on me, using the old magic they don’t really understand, and it took wrong.”
“Took wrong how?” The possibilities chill me. I remember too well Jarah’s and my father’s stories about the original shamans and how their magic tapped into the very fabric of life and death.
A shrug answers me. The fathomless eyes in Owen’s face don’t offer any clues either. “It just did. There’s a thin, stretched-out tether between us. The farther Owen is from me, the thinner it gets. It’ll snap at some point.”
“And shatter both of your souls.” Jarah states the obvious conclusion in a clear, no longer slurred voice. And if Jarah’s working the hallucinogen through his system, Owen will soon too.
“Yes. Unless we give in.”
“Give in how?” I ask as possibilities take shape.
“Accept the bond forced between us. That’s why they stuck me down here. To convince me to accept it.”
My earlier thoughts return. Maybe Owen and Gabriel can work out some arrangement that works for both of them. “And will you?”
A demented and crazed laugh escapes Owen. It’s Gabriel’s insanity, though. Owen’s conveys anger and frustration. “Yes, Ilan. I’m ready.”
“We’re going to get you out of there, brother. I promise you.”
“Soon? I want to feel the moon’s rays on my face again. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed the stars.”
“Yes, very soon.”
Gabriel exhales. The blackness in his eyes lightens, gray seeping into the darkness like clouds on a calm night. “Good.”
Knowing our time is limited, I slide my elbows out and lean closer to my brother. “Owen dreams about the future. How is that possible? Even alphas can’t do that.”
“My mind isn’t quite right, Ilan. I see things I shouldn’t, things I never did before being tied to Owen. I have no control over it, though. I dream, and I share those dreams with Owen. I have no other connection to the outside world.”
“What else can you tell me?” The words rush out of my mouth as the black recedes from Owen’s eyes.
Gabriel’s voice fades to a whisper, forcing both me and Jarah to lean closer. “Don’t die, Ilan. Don’t…die.”
In the next instant, Owen’s hazel eyes meet mine. He jerks back, shoving his chair away from the table and standing. A kick from Owen to the broken glass sends the shards across the floor. He scrubs a shaky hand through his hair, then makes his way to the door and tugs it open. With an overly dramatic sweep of his hand, he motions to the outside. “Visiting hour at the zoo is over, people. Time to leave the crazed animal alone.”
I slide Jarah a quick glance. His agreement shows in his eyes. We’ve gotten everything we can out of Owen today. Although the news Gabriel shared is grim, the clue he provided will help us find him. Or more accurately, Shifter Affairs can point us in the right direction. It’s a good thing I have access to their files now.
“Thank you for sharing a drink and your stories with us, Owen.” Jarah collects the bottle and cork, then walks out the front door without looking at Owen.
I pause next to the male who shares a tie to my alpha. “Don’t die, Owen.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” Owen crosses his arms over his chest. “I have unfinished business in this life, and no one, not even Gabriel Kane, will stop me.”
I pointedly glance at Owen’s ankle where the band keeping him in this house is attached. “Good luck with that.”
Owen laughs. “You think that little shock device is what’s keeping me here? That’s cute.”
“If not, what is?”
Owen steps into my personal space and lowers his voice to a threatening growl. “For your brother to accept his death and go quietly into the night.”
“Gabriel won’t give up his life for you.”
“Gabriel’s not living any life worth having. Ask any shifter who can’t call his animals anymore. They’ll tell you the same thing.”
Years, little brother. Maybe hundreds or thousands. I can’t judge time anymore. I just know I haven’t shifted in what seems like forever. Gabriel’s words repeat in my head, echoing the conclusion Owen shared.
My brother’s the walking dead.