Priest (Trident Agency #2)

15. Priest

15

PRIEST

T he last thing in the world Priest wanted was to leave the safety of the Dragons’ lair, but he knew they were running up against time. Oliver was coming into his power faster than Priest thought he’d be able to, and now they had something. Not a precise location, but at least a geographical area, which was somewhere to start.

Jeremiah sent him the location to one of their safe houses that was closest to the spot Oliver had pointed on the map, and the next thing Priest knew, the plane was touching down, and he could see Knight waiting for him in the dusky glow of the fading sunset.

He pulled Oliver close before they were ready to disembark and tipped his chin up. Their gazes connected, and Priest could feel his Demon close to the surface of his skin. “Kiss me.”

Oliver licked his lips, then pushed up onto his toes and did as he asked. Priest felt a surge of power rush through him, like sparks flicking across his tongue. He drank it in, feeling renewed, and he pulled back to see a glowing light in Oliver’s eyes.

Was it a trick from the window?

It was gone before he could work it out.

Priest touched the edge of Oliver’s jaw. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for weeks.” There was a touch of impatience in Oliver’s tone, which Priest understood. He would have felt the same way if any of his brothers had been taken. Knight’s captivity had been before Priest had known him, but there were moments he saw the pain in his brother’s face and wanted to rip apart the veil between the past and present and save him before he went through his torment.

He hated that he’d been one of the people to get in Oliver’s way, and the moment they had Poe safe, he planned to make it up to him. Many times. With tongue.

“I can feel that,” Oliver breathed, and he rocked forward, letting Priest feel his thick cock before he shoved his hand in the waistband of his pants and adjusted himself so it wasn’t visible. “Stop it.”

“I can’t help it.” Priest’s voice was a low growl, and he could feel fangs in his mouth. He took a breath, then caught Oliver’s hand and kissed his palm. “He wants you all the time.”

“Your Demon?”

Priest nodded, but he pushed back gently until it settled under his skin like a low simmer. He linked their fingers, then led Oliver to the door and gave him a gentle push to disembark first. The wind was warmer and a touch more humid now that they were so close to the water again.

Nowhere had really felt like home, but their offices and his place near the palace in Midlona felt more like it than anywhere else he’d been. He hadn’t dropped roots, but he had dropped a few seeds, and he wondered if he’d ever be allowed to see them grow. He could picture a calmer, safer future where Oliver had his shop again and the guys lived nearby.

And there was even room for Azriel in that rosy picture because in spite of the small pricks of jealousy he felt from time to time, the Angel was as close to a best friend Priest had outside of the Alphas. And it helped Azriel already adored Oliver.

“The two of you will have plenty of time for that later,” Knight grumbled as Priest ushered Oliver toward the car.

Oliver flushed and ducked his head, and Priest shoved his middle finger at his friend. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“You forget I can feel it,” Knight said, grimacing large enough to show his fangs.

“Oh gods,” Oliver groaned.

Priest had no defense against that. Supes could sense when nearby Incubi were hungry, and they could also sense when he was feeding if they were close enough. He sighed and opened the door for Oliver, closing it gently behind him before turning to his friend.

“Why are y?—”

“Don’t,” Knight said, an edge to his tone Priest was unused to. “It’s bad enough Sunshine and Remi can’t keep it in their fucking pants for more than five minutes.”

Priest fought back a laugh. “Well, Remi’s young and virile.”

Knight turned a little green. He was always wary and uncomfortable around people being physical, and while Priest understood why, he also understood how much it made Knight suffer. He was touch starved and unable to seek what he was so desperately craving except in the most desperate moments.

“We promise to keep it in the bedroom,” Priest said, giving his friend a break. “Oliver’s more focused on Poe anyway.”

“And he’s sure this is the place?” Knight looked uneasy.

From the information Jeremiah had put together about Knight’s captivity, they were very near where he’d escaped. Knight’s memory of the whole thing was foggy, like someone had scooped massive holes out of his brain, but he remembered enough. Priest and Jeremiah had searched the area for years, trying to find a clue or to get lucky and stumble upon the place he’d been held, but they’d always come up empty.

Until now.

“He seems very certain, and his powers are growing. I trust him, and not just because he’s…”

“Your mate?”

Priest flushed. “Demon mates are so rare they might as well be nonexistent. You know this.”

“We thought the same thing about Hellhounds,” he gently reminded him, raising a brow. “And last I checked, Angels could basically find theirs while unconscious.”

“But Nephilim—” Priest started, then stopped.

Oliver wasn’t a Nephilim. He was something else—something closer to human but still so powerful, and he could feel his lover’s strength growing by the day. He was lucky Oliver wasn’t one. Because human and Angel pairings were forbidden—a decree from the gods, not some bigoted government official—and Nephilim were cursed at birth to sense their fated mates but never be able to find them. If they did find them, the mate always found some grisly death.

He shuddered at the thought.

Knight hummed, pulling Priest from his thoughts. “There’s something we need to talk about at the safe house.”

“About mates?” He scrunched his brows in confusion.

“About all of this. Remi got an email from his ex.”

The only ex Remi had was a Nephilim he’d dated at Hillsland University. Priest had only met Ozias briefly when he’d come to check on Remi after the team had recovered him from his kidnapping. He was a renowned scholar, and he could hear other people’s thoughts. Rumor was he’d been collared with magic by the university, but Priest didn’t buy it. He didn’t buy that was even possible .

“Alright, let’s get on the road.”

Knight rolled his eyes when Priest climbed in the back with Oliver and pulled him close. He could sense the tension coming off his beloved in waves; there was no way he could leave him to sit and stew on his own.

Oliver was scared for his friend—scared of what they’d find when they got to Poe and scared for what it meant. Something was obviously brewing. Something beyond some fringe group of fanatics who wanted to kill Supes.

Priest just didn’t know how deep it went and how the hell they were going to unravel the increasingly complicated ball of string now that they’d started pulling at all the loose threads.

The safe house was tucked into the woods somewhere near a lake. Priest hadn’t been to this one before, but the layout was like the others. It was single story, deceptively large inside, and blended well enough into the surroundings that it was almost impossible to pinpoint from an aerial view. The road leading up to it was slightly wider than an average hiking trail, and they used just enough magic to cloak it and stop anyone from accidently stumbling upon it, but not enough to draw attention.

They had a covered garage for their cars with a mossed roof and tunnel that attached to the side door so none of them were exposed walking outside. There were retinal scanners at each end of the tunnel, and he knew there would be another one they could use to escape if the cars were compromised.

Once upon a time, Priest thought Jeremiah had been a little too paranoid.

Now, with Oliver pressed against his side and so achingly vulnerable, he was grateful for it all.

Knight opened the door ahead of them, and Priest immediately got a whiff of rich spices. Slate was obviously there because he cooked when he was stressed, and Priest couldn’t help his excitement because he loved Gargoyle cuisine.

“Remind me to stress him out more often,” Priest said as the doorway led directly into the kitchen.

“Fuck off,” Slate muttered, not turning away from the stove.

Oliver shot Priest a curious look, and Priest kissed the frown off his lips. “He only plays chef when shit’s hitting the fan. So, you know, good and bad.”

Slate turned and glowered at Priest, then softened his gaze when he locked eyes with Oliver. He was a very quiet, stoic man who kept his cards close to his chest. But nothing enraged him more than those with power using it to ruin the lives of people who had none.

“There’s plenty for you if you’re hungry.”

Oliver blinked. “Oh. Me?”

Slate’s mouth twitched, and he gave a single, regal nod. “Mm.”

Priest grinned as Oliver stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Thank you. I’m Oliver, by the way.”

“I know. You’re pretty famous around here.” They shook hands, and Priest fought the urge to yank Oliver away. A little touching was fine, but it was lingering too long.

Slate eventually pulled back and shot Priest a look rich with understanding. “Go put your shit away. Sunshine’s waiting to talk to you. Those of us who didn’t get a week vacation with a Dragon Hoard have already been briefed.”

Priest growled, but he hurried Oliver along through the archway and down a long corridor. His bedroom anywhere they went was always the second to last on the right, and this was no different. He opened the door and found the layout just the way he liked it. A large bed in the center, blinds drawn, a single dresser, a desk, and a doorway that led to an en suite.

He envisioned a long, hot bath with the two of them later. But for now, they didn’t have long to explore. He shoved their cases against the far wall, then pressed Oliver next to the door and cradled his face.

“Tell me how you are.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and attempted to push Priest back, but he was either weak from travel or not using his newfound strength to move him because Priest didn’t budge. “I’m fine.”

“Do you still feel him?”

Oliver closed his eyes, breathed, and the heat of his powers reached out, brushing against Priest. He wanted to drag his fingers through the tendrils, but he was afraid to disrupt his lover. “I can feel him. He’s closer. He’s…” Oliver opened his eyes and licked his lips. “Something’s changed.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He just… He feels different. Like he’s dying, except he’s not.” Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath. “I don’t know what this means.”

“It means we’re on a short timeline,” Priest said. “But we’re close, and I don’t think we’re too late.”

“Promise me,” Oliver said, his voice trembling and his eyes red-rimmed. “Please.”

Priest hated himself for lying because he couldn’t actually make that promise. He didn’t know who had taken Poe and why. He didn’t know what the human had been through and what his life would be like after they got him back. If he’d recover from the weeks of captivity.

But he also couldn’t stand seeing Oliver so terrified.

“I promise.”

Oliver sagged forward, laughing wetly into the front of Priest’s shirt. “I know you don’t mean that, but thank you.”

Priest kissed the side of his neck, then urged him to straighten. “Come on. The sooner we’re debriefed, the sooner?—”

“You can eat?” Oliver teased.

Priest growled and darted forward, nipping at his ear. “The sooner we can get started on our rescue mission, little human.”

“Not a little human anymore,” Oliver murmured.

Priest smudged a kiss over his jaw. “You will always be my little human. I told you that before, and I meant it. I don’t care what you actually become. I only care what you are to me.”

The mood in the room was somber. Jeremiah insisted they eat first, which Priest appreciated because now that he was being sated by Oliver, his human appetite was growing. They took their meal in the living room, Oliver pressed against Priest’s side. He only picked at his food, but Priest didn’t pester him about it.

They made quiet conversation about the Dragons, and Jeremiah seemed to know about the missing mate.

“They asked me to look into it a few years ago,” he said as he set his empty plate on the table. “We had a few leads, but they dried up pretty early on.”

Priest looked over at Storm. “You helped?”

“My brother didn’t want me to at the time,” he said quietly. “It probably wouldn’t have mattered either way.”

Oliver wrapped his arms around his middle. “Losing a mate must be…”

“Hell on earth,” Storm answered quietly. He took a beat, then pushed to stand. “I need to go make a couple of phone calls. You don’t need me for this, right?”

Jeremiah shook his head. “No. I just need Knight to stay.”

It wasn’t a dismissal, but both Storm and Slate looked happy to be dismissed. They filed out of the room, and a moment later, Jeremiah gestured to Knight, who rose from his chair. He paced a little in front of the coffee table, and Priest could see how stressed he was. He was more sallow than ever, and his fingers were shaking.

“There’s been something oddly familiar about all of this since the attacks began. Not the attack on Remi,” he added, glancing at Jeremiah. “But the shop and Poe going missing. Then, the law office. And now the others.”

“Do we think they’re connected to what happened to the royals?” Priest asked.

“I think that the attack on Remi was a red herring. I think McCornal was a distraction,” Jeremiah said. “The more details I uncover, the less sense it all makes.”

Priest frowned. “I mean, he’s been the spearhead of the anti-supernatural movement for years.”

“Yes, but that sentiment isn’t new,” Jeremiah said. He rubbed his fingers over his mouth. “A bigot gone too far—it’s a tale as old as time. But the timing of it all was… convenient. As the sentencing was happening, the shop was blown up and Poe was taken. But the media was fixed on the trial.”

Priest had a sinking feeling in his gut, and he turned to Knight. “What aren’t you saying?”

Knight fixed his gaze on Oliver, his eyes more red than they normally were when he wasn’t feeding. “I’m sure Priest hasn’t told you much about what happened to me.”

“It’s your story to tell,” Priest said.

Knight shot him a grateful smile, but he quickly sobered. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and Priest could see him squeezing his fingers into fists. “I was about as young as Poe when I was taken. I don’t remember much of it. Fire. Smoke. Screaming. I was in a fog for… I don’t know how long. I was in and out of consciousness. I remember a lab and being poked and prodded. They took what felt like gallons of my blood.” His breath trembled. “I was injected with things that made my veins feel like ice and then fire.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver whispered.

Knight shook his head. “Eventually, I got away, but I was changed into this.” He bared his teeth on the right, showing fang.

“How did you escape?”

Knight rubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know. I used to fantasize about it. I had a thousand different plans, all of them as unrealistic as the other. I came to while I was running through the woods, and I’ve always suspected that maybe I didn’t escape at all. Maybe I was let go once I turned.”

Priest hadn’t heard this before. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard it felt like it was going to break his ribs. “What are you saying?”

“That this is familiar,” Knight repeated. “We’re near the lab where I was held. I can feel it. I recognized the trees. The paths. The road.”

Jeremiah cleared his throat. “Oz sent Remi a detailed message three days ago saying he was cornered in his office a year ago by a couple of people claiming to be students asking questions about Vampires. He didn’t think much of it until the media finally started picking up the stories of the kidnappings.”

Priest frowned as Oliver sat forward. “What kind of questions did they have?”

“Strange ones. Like if there’s a genetic component to the turn. If there could be a trigger. Absurd because everyone knows?—”

“Vampires are created through a virus,” Knight finished for him. He swallowed heavily. “But apparently, Oz has been working on a theory that there isn’t a virus at all. That it’s a latent genetic trait that gets triggered.”

Priest stared at Knight. “So your family…”

“I don’t know if anyone else in my family has ever turned. They stopped speaking to me the moment I appeared after the change,” Knight said. “I was dead to them, and as far as I know, my name has been erased from the family history. It makes sense they’d do the same to anyone else who turned.”

Priest stared down at Oliver’s hands. He was wringing them in his lap so hard his knuckles were white. “Does Oz have some idea how to tell or anything?”

“We asked,” Jeremiah said. “Remi sent a message back, but it’s been total radio silence since then. He’s worried.”

Priest was too. “Then what’s the plan?”

“We raid the lab,” Knight said. “We have the advantage of surprise.”

“Storm and Slate are already working on an attack on the power grid. We cut all electricity, then go in guns blazing, so to speak,” Jeremiah said with a grin that told Priest they wouldn’t be using guns but fangs and claws instead. Priest’s Demon ached to be able to let loose and draw blood. “We rescue whoever they have in the lab and try to take as many of the workers as we can alive.”

“High-ranking ones,” Knight said. “People who have information.”

Priest nodded, then looked over at Oliver, who was pale. “What’s wrong?”

Oliver swallowed heavily. “If what you’re saying is true—if it’s some sort of Vampire lab, does that mean Poe…”

“Maybe,” Jeremiah said at the same time as Knight said, “Most likely.”

Oliver looked at Priest. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been feeling. The change in him.”

Priest didn’t want to believe that was right, but what choice did he have? The coincidence was far too strong.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Jeremiah said softly. “If he is.”

“No. It’s just the end of anyone ever being kind to him again,” Knight answered bitterly. “But I’m sure he’s strong.”

“There’s not a chance in hell I would ever abandon him,” Oliver said fiercely.

Priest turned Oliver’s face by the chin and met his gaze, holding it. “He’ll also be in the best company. You are mine, so my family is yours, and Poe will always be part of that.”

Knight took a step closer and said quietly, “Unlike me, he won’t have to figure out his new reality or face his future alone.”