I didn’t argue; they sorted my guard detail out between themselves, even when I didn’t want them near.
“D!” yelled Reed into the other room.
“Yeah, man?”
“I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Rawson watched the others disappear, then sat down. Normally I let them stay a while. They liked to know Rawson was okay and to let him know they were there for him, too. But he looked so shitty today, even more unnerved than usual, that I didn’t think it was a good idea.
“Owen? Would you make sure D’s okay.”
“Sure, boss. D’you want me to wait outside with Stone and Kawan when D’s sorted?”
I smiled at him and nodded, glad I didn’t have to spell that shit out. “Thanks, man.”
Rawson scrubbed his face with his hands. Giving him a bit longer to gather himself, I lowered my bulk to the chair opposite and waited. It was hard, starting a conversation with someone when you knew their life was hell, and there was nothing you could do about it.
Zander had told me the warden had taken Rawson because he was the only one I cared about. Turns out he was useful for other things too, like catching the poor buggers who tried to run from Doherty and the warden. I had no idea how, but Zander had placed some kind of voodoo shit on Rawson, turning him into the most monstrous form of our kind. A Were. In half-shift, he was strong and vicious, neither man nor beast, and with the hold Zander had on his mind, they used him as an efficient hunter and killer.
Rawson sat back, interlaced his fingers over his chest, and tipped his head back. He stared at the ceiling, a frown creasing the skin between his brows.
“You okay?” It was a stupid question, but one I really wanted him to answer.
Rawson huffed a chuckle, though there was little humour in it. “Yeah, just give me a minute. I have…something…” He frowned. “I wanted to tell you something.”
I waited patiently. Rawson’s memory was shot. He sometimes struggled to be lucid when we met like this. I hated it, but there was nothing I could do to change it, or perhaps there was. If I got the information Zander and my employer wanted, maybe I could do a deal to get him out of this place.
“A woman. They made me catch a woman…”
“Yeah?” I didn’t pay much attention. Rawson’s recounts and sudden flashbacks were not new. Women were frequently on Rawson’s hit list, and not just those that lived on the street, though I’d long since given up trying to understand how Doherty and the warden chose their victims.
Rawson nodded. “She was...familiar…” His attention shifted to the table top and onto the drawing I’d done. “Like her…” He jabbed a finger on Ember’s eyes, the ones I drew from memory nearly every day. “These are her eyes. Do you know her? Did I hurt her?” His voice shook, his breathing ragged.
Rawson hated himself for being used as a hunter. Perhaps he hated me, too, for allowing it. He’d once been a powerful alpha—a huge Kodiak bear. But now, when I looked in his eyes, I only saw the spirit of a broken man. Pain rolled through my chest as he brushed his fingers over Ember’s image, and it took me a while to rein in my anger. He was confused between the present and the past, he had to be, and it wasn’t his fault. I needed to remember that.
“It’s not her,” I said, forcing patience into my words, when all I wanted to do was scream the words. I tapped the paper. “This is Ember, the girl you took in and gave a home. Don’t you remember her? You loved her very much. So did I. And it can’t be her because she’s dead.” I scrunched up the drawing and tossed it on the floor. “You must be getting a bit mixed up, my man.” I swallowed against my aching throat.
Rawson shook his head. “No. No. This girl. She’s not dead, I remember her. She had blonde hair and her eyes…” He met my gaze. “Her eyes burned, like those on that drawing, but with fire. Yes, that’s it, fire.”
Pain shot through my heart and I struggled to breathe. It was impossible to form a reply.
“Ember, you say?” he asked, filling the silence. He looked down and his brow furrowed. After a moment, his throat bobbed and he spoke softly. “I remember