Trusted Bond

individual punished or killed.‖
    ―Jin!‖
    ―Crane,‖ I soothed him. ―Abbot was––‖
    ―Wait.‖
    But I was smarter than that and hung up before Logan‘s voice came
    over the line and ordered me home. Moving fast, realizing that I had told
    Crane exactly where I was going and not wanting to talk to him, either, I
    took the stairs fast to Eddie‘s apartment to pack my clothes and the few
    things I had in the bathroom.
    Back in my Jeep, I decided to spend the night at a motel I knew in
    Truckee. I stopped to get some water because my body was still healing
    and so needed lots of fluids. As I was leaving the store, I was suddenly
    face-to-face with two of Yuri‘s khatyu, his fighters, Isaac and Dmitry.
    ―My reah,‖ Isaac greeted me haltingly, his eyes huge.
    ―Reah.‖ Dmitry smiled sheepishly. ―It‘s good to see you.‖
    Shit.
    ―And you guys,‖ I said quickly, stepping around them to walk
    toward my Jeep.
    ―Reah!‖
    I turned and found another of Yuri‘s men, Artem Varda, striding
    toward me. He was tall and muscular with dark brown hair and even
    darker eyes. He was Yuri‘s second, second to the sheseru, and took his
    job, his position in the tribe, seriously. As he closed in on me, I noted that
    the facial hair that I was normally not partial to looked good on him. I
    liked his goatee and mustache; it went with the wavy brown hair that fell
    to broad shoulders.
    I stood my ground as he approached me. There was no one else in
    the parking lot, or they would have never called me by my title but would
    have instead used my name.
    ―My reah,‖ Artem said reverently, stepping in front of me, taking a
    deep breath as he did it, inhaling my scent. ―Are you hurt?‖
    ―I‘m fine,‖ I lied, making a move to walk by him.
    He barred my path. ―You don‘t seem fine.‖
    22

    Mary Calmes

    My eyes flicked to his.
    ―You don‘t smell fine.‖
    I forced a smile. ―What are you guys even doing here?‖
    ―We stopped for beer. It‘s just chance that we ran into you.‖
    The town was small, I would give him that.
    ―Perhaps we should follow you home to make sure you‘re safe.‖
    ―Reah!‖
    We both turned at the cry, and Nico, yet another of Yuri‘s men, was
    motioning to me at the same time he was leaning over into the car.
    ―He‘s not breathing!‖
    I bolted over to him, and there in the backseat was a boy much
    younger than the rest of Yuri‘s khatyu. He was maybe fifteen if he was a
    day. Bending down close, I inhaled deeply. He was, in fact, breathing, but
    he was passed out cold.
    ―Reah, should we––‖ Artem began.
    ―Where‘s your house?‖ I asked, cutting him off.
    ―That‘s my little brother, Roc––‖
    ―Where‘s your house?‖ I yelled at him. I hadn‘t asked who the boy
    was.
    ―Mine is far, but––my mom‘s house is right down the street. He lives
    with her.‖
    ―Let‘s go,‖ I said, getting in beside the unconscious boy.
    No one questioned me; all four men just piled into the vehicle.
    Artem threw the car into reverse the second every door closed, gunned the
    motor, and peeled out of the parking lot, catapulting us out onto the street.
    I didn‘t say a word. He was terrified for his brother and didn‘t need
    me yelling at him about how us getting killed was not going to help him. I
    stayed quiet instead, reassuring him with a squeeze of his shoulder that
    everything would be all right.
    He covered my hand with his and held tight, letting me know that the
    comfort was both welcome and needed.

    Trusted Bond

    23

    Chapter 2

    THE Varda house was at the end of a cul-de-sac halfway up on Mount
    Rose, and people were out strolling, walking their dogs, and I could even
    smell barbeque as we all got out of the car and charged across the
    manicured lawn to the front door.
    There was a party going on that we basically interrupted as we
    barged into the house. Artem pushed through the crowd of people,
    carrying his brother, forging a path for me, and I stayed no more than a
    step behind him. I took in vaulted ceilings, stairs that led to the second
    floor, and a sunken living room as we moved through it.
    When we reached the bathroom, I had Artem sit down on the toilet
    with his brother in his arms as I turned on the hot water in the tub.
    ―Put him in,‖ I directed.
    ―But he‘ll get burned,‖ he said, hesitating.
    I shook my head. ―He won‘t. He‘s a panther, and his body
    temperature will rise to match the water. Hurry up, ‘cause I need