Alphas - Origins Read online

  “Speak to Lucas,” Henry suggested. “I’m sure he will permit some sort of visitation.”

  Lucas. Lucas had said he owned both of them. She had to make him understand. Karina fixed Emily’s blanket and rose. “Can I make her breakfast? Or should I ask Lucas’s permission?”

  Henry stepped aside. “You’re welcome to any food we have.” He cleared his throat.

  The fridge contained eggs, several pounds of bacon, some slimy cold cuts, a hunk of mozzarella cheese—dried, yellow, and brittle—and a pack of green-looking hot dogs. Karina pulled out eggs and bacon. “Flour?”

  Henry dug in one of the cabinets, looking lost, frowned, and opened a door, revealing a huge supply room. “I think in here somewhere.”

  She stepped into the room. Rows and rows of wooden shelves, filled with cans and jars, a huge spice rack, fifty-pound bags of sugar, flour, rice . . . three large freezers filled with meat. Enough food to feed these men for years. “Are you expecting a long siege?”

  “You never know,” Henry said with a thin smile. “We’ve had a few.”

  “You, Daniel, Lucas, me, Emily. . . is anybody else coming?”

  “No. Does this mean we’re invited to the meal?”

  “I’m using your food.”

  Henry exhaled, picked up the plate of black bacon strips, and dumped them into the trash. “Thank God.”

  Karina opened the window first, so the kitchen would air out, and set about making breakfast. Henry parked himself by the refrigerator and watched her. There was something disquieting about Henry. When she looked at him, she got an impression of length: long limbs, long frame, long face. Even though she vaguely recalled that he was slightly shorter than Lucas, he appeared taller. He seemed lean, almost thin, but that notion was deceiving—his sweatshirt sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, revealing forearms sculpted with hard muscle. He smiled often, but the curving of his lips lacked emotion. His smile was paper-thin, an automatic, knee-jerk reaction like blinking.

  A Mind Bender. If what he said was true, he could kill Emily in front of her, wipe Karina’s mind clean, and she would never remember it.

  Karina found Granny Smith apples in the bottom of the fridge and checked the drawers. On the third try she hit what looked like a utility drawer: knives, screwdrivers, bottle openers, and wooden spoons. She fished a medium-sized knife from the drawer, peeled the apples, cored and chopped them, and set them to fry slowly, sprinkling them with brown sugar.

  “It smells divine,” Henry murmured.

  “Is there cinnamon?”

  “I am sure there is. It’s brown powder, right?” Henry stepped into the pantry.

  “Yes.” She grabbed the knife, pulled the fabric of her jeans away from her hip, and slid the knife into her pocket. The point of the blade cut the lining and she jammed the knife all the way down to the hilt. The blade scraped against her skin. She glanced down. No blood. Karina exhaled. Cutting herself was a calculated risk—she had no other place to hide the knife. Anywhere else it would make a bulge. She pulled her T-shirt down over it.

  Henry came out of the pantry. She held her breath. Maybe he could read thoughts. Maybe he would pluck the image of the knife out of her head. She had to stop thinking about it, but she couldn’t. The shape of the knife was probably glowing in her brain.

  Henry shook a plastic container of cinnamon. “Found it.”

  She had to say something or he would realize things were wrong. Karina willed her mouth to move. “Thank you.” She took the cinnamon and sprinkled it on the apples.

  The bacon rack was missing in action, or perhaps they didn’t have one. She layered a plate with paper towels, placed the strips on top, and popped it into the microwave.

  “You don’t cook often?” she asked.

  “On the contrary. I cook quite frequently, out of sheer necessity. Unfortunately, most of what I produce is inedible. Daniel’s cooking is even worse than mine, if such a thing is possible. Lucas can grill quite well when pushed to it, but in the kitchen his idea of a meal involves a raw piece of meat, burned on the outside. Adrino was our cook.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Dead. About nine months ago.”

  She paused to look at him. “I’m sorry.”

  Henry nodded. “Thank you.”

  Karina resumed stirring the pancake batter. “How did he die?”

  “Lucas bit him in half.”

  She stopped. “Was he a member of your family?”

  “He was. He was Lucas’s cousin on his mother’s side, and my stepbrother.”

  Karina found the griddle and set it on the burners to heat up. She stirred the apples with a wooden spoon, then pulled the bacon out of the microwave and peeled it from the paper towels.

  “I can do that,” Henry offered.

  “Thank you.” She poured the pancake batter on the griddle in quick drips and watched the first pancake puff and bubble at the edges. “Why did Lucas kill him?”

  “Adrino tried to murder Arthur.”

  “Why?”

  Henry smiled, a quick baring of teeth, meaningless and flat like a mask. “Adrino had raped a woman on base. As a punishment, Arthur had him chained for two months.”

  “Chained?”

  “In the courtyard. Eventually Adrino was let off the chain and everything went quite well, until he attempted to solidify Arthur’s blood during the last Christmas dinner. In retrospect, we should have expected it. His subspecies is prone to rashness.” Henry smiled again. “You will find that we’re a violent, vicious lot, Lady Karina. All of us hate Arthur, hate each other, hate who we are, what we are, why we are. This hate is so deep within us, it’s in our bones. Lucas hates stronger than most of us for his own reasons. But Lucas is also far more controlled in his rages than he lets on. He recognizes the simple truth: Arthur is the glue that holds us together. Arthur makes mistakes, and he’s brutal, but he’s also fair. Every tribe must have a leader. Without the leader there is chaos. May I just mention that your pancakes smell delicious? I don’t suppose there is any way I could steal one right now, is there?”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, the pancakes were done, the bacon was cooked, and Karina crossed the room to her daughter.

  “Emily? Wake up . . .”

  “Mommy!” Emily clutched Karina around the neck and hung on with surprisingly fierce strength.

  Karina scooped her off the couch and held her close, afraid to hug the tiny body too hard. “I’m here, baby. I love you.” Emily never said “mommy.” It was always “mom.”

  “You won’t leave?”

  A hard knot formed in Karina’s throat. “Leaving” was Emily’s euphemism for dying. Her daughter thought she had died.

  “I will try very hard not to,” she promised.

  Emily hung on, and Karina gently carried her into the kitchen. “I made your favorite apples.”

  Slowly Emily’s hold on her neck eased. A few seconds later she allowed herself to be put into a chair at the table.

  Daniel marched into the kitchen. “Food.”

  Henry nodded. “Yes.”

  Daniel pulled out a chair, sat, and reached for the pancakes.

  “Let’s wait for Lucas,” Henry said.

  “Fuck Lucas.”

  Karina looked at Daniel. Henry sighed. Daniel looked back at them, glanced at Emily, and shrugged. “They don’t like it that I swear. Do you mind if I swear?”

  Emily shook her head.

  “See, she doesn’t mind.”

  Lucas loomed in the doorway. One moment it was empty and the next he was just there, green eyes watching her every move with a hungry light. Karina took her chair, trying to ignore it, but his gaze clasped her like an invisible chain. She looked back at him. Yes, I belong to you. You don’t have to ram it down my throat.

  Emily’s eyes had grown big. She shied a little when Lucas stepped to the table, aware of his movements. Karina read fear in her daughter’s face and reached over to hold her hand. He’d given Emily
no reason to fear him, yet she was clearly scared, almost as if she sensed on some primal level that he was a threat.

  Lucas sat next to Karina, opposite of Daniel, and reached for the pancakes. She watched him load his plate: four pancakes, four links of sausage, six strips of bacon . . . The plate would hold no more. He pondered it, frustrated, then piled the apples atop the pancakes and drenched the whole thing in maple syrup.

  It was good that she had made enough for ten people.

  Lucas sliced pancakes with his fork, pierced a slice of the apple, and maneuvered the whole thing into his mouth. Karina sat on the edge of her seat, listening to the elevated tempo of her own heartbeat, watching him chew, and waited for him to throw the plate across the table. She wanted them to like the food; no, she desperately needed the three of them to like the food. Her survival depended on it.

  Lucas swallowed. “Good,” he said and reached for more.

  Karina slumped a little in her chair, unable to hide her relief.

  “Good? It’s fucking divine,” Daniel said. “It’s the first decent meal we’ve had in weeks.”

  Lucas leveled a heavy stare at him but said nothing.

  “Mom,” Emily said.

  “What, baby?”

  “I left my backpack at Jill’s house. It has my school stuff in it.”

  The three men ate, watching her.

  “That will be okay, baby,” Karina said. “You have to change schools anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we live here now and you’ll go to a special school.” The words came out painfully.

  “Do I have to ride the bus?”

  Karina swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. Acknowledging where they were was hard, as if she were driving nails into her own coffin. “No.”

  “Why do we have to stay here?”

  “This is where I work now.”

  “Your mother is a slave,” Daniel said. “Lucas owns her.”

  If only she could have reached across the table, she would have hit him with a closed fist so it would hurt. Karina forced neutrality into her face, pulling it on like a mask. Show nothing. Betray no weakness.

  “Is a slave better than a payroll supervisor?” Emily asked.

  “They’re not that different,” Karina lied. So many times before she had thought she worked like a slave, pulling in long hours, picking up project after project, perpetually behind, trying to get to the bottom of her to-do stack. She thought she had experienced the worst life could throw at her. All of it seemed so pointless now. Her memories belonged to someone else, a happier, flightier, younger person. She had a new life now and new priorities, chief of which was the welfare of her daughter. She had to keep Emily safe.

  Emily poked her pancake with a fork. “What about the house? All our stuff is there . . . my Hello Kitty blanket . . .”

  “We’ll get new things.” She cast a quick glance around the table but none of the three men said anything to break down her fragile promises.

  “Will I get my own room?”

  Karina looked to Lucas. Please. Don’t separate me from my daughter.

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his movements unhurried. “You have to stay at the main house. You can come to visit your mother on weekends. We’ll set up a room.”

  “I want to stay with Mom.” Emily’s voice was tiny.

  “You can’t,” Lucas said.

  Emily bit her lip.

  “You’ll have a good place at the main house. A room you’ll share with a nice girl. Toys. Clothes. Everything you need. If anybody tries to be mean to you, tell them you belong to Lucas. Everyone is afraid of me. Nobody will harm you.”

  “No,” Emily said.

  Lucas stopped eating. Karina tensed.

  “Are you telling me no?” Lucas asked. His voice was calm.

  Emily raised her chin with all of the defiance a six-year-old could muster. “I’m tired and I’m scared, and I’m not going. I’m staying with my mom. Are you going to yell at me?”

  “No,” Lucas said. “I don’t need to.”

  “You’re not my dad. My dad left.”

  Lucas glanced at Karina.

  “I’m a widow,” she said quietly.

  “I’m not your father, but I’m in charge,” Lucas said. “You will obey me anyway.”

  “Why?” Emily asked.

  Lucas leaned forward and stared at Emily. “Because I am big, strong, and scary. And you are very small.”

  “You’re not nice.” Emily held his gaze, but Karina could tell it wasn’t out of courage. Emily had simply frozen like a baby rabbit looking into the eyes of a wolf.

  “It’s not a nice world and I can’t always be nice,” Lucas said. “But I will try and I won’t be mean to you without a reason.”

  Karina put her hand on his forearm, trying to tear his attention away from Emily. It worked; he looked at her.

  “Please.” It took all of her will to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Please let her stay.”

  “I want to stay,” Emily said. “I’ll be good. I’ll do all my chores.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Lucas said.

  CHAPTER 4

  A half hour later, breakfast was finished. The men rose one by one, rinsed their plates, and loaded the dishes and silverware into the dishwasher with surprising efficiency. Karina put the last of the food away. Henry had stepped out, but Daniel remained in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching her. Lucas loomed by the door, watching Daniel.

  “Can I go outside?” Emily asked.

  Karina paused. “I don’t think that is a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Daniel arched an eyebrow.

  “Because there are scary birds out there.”

  “There are scary birds? What kind of scary birds?”

  “It’s safe,” Lucas said. “The net keeps everything out.”

  Karina remembered the bird’s body hitting the invisible fence. “What if she walks into this net?”

  “She’d have to walk a mile and a half down the hill before she reached it,” Lucas said.

  “I want to see the birds,” Emily said. “Please?”

  It would get them out of the house, away from the men and out into the open. She could get a better look around. Maybe she would see a road, or a house, some avenue of escape. Karina wiped her hands with a towel and hung it on the back of the chair. “Okay. But we’re going to stay by the house.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Lucas said.

  All she wanted was the illusion of being alone with her daughter. He wouldn’t let her have it. Karina clenched her teeth.

  “That’s right,” Daniel said. “Bite your tongue. It will come in handy.”

  Lucas gave him a flat stare. For a moment they stood still, then Daniel rolled his eyes and casually wandered out of the kitchen into the side hallway. Lucas moved in the opposite direction, through the doorway. Karina took Emily by the hand. “Come on, baby.”

  The hallway cut through the house, straight to the door. They passed rooms: a library filled with books from floor to ceiling on the right, a large room with a giant flat-screen TV on the left, and then Lucas opened the door and they stepped on the porch into the sunlight. The yard was grass, small scrawny oaks and brush flanking it on both sides. A path led down the hill into the distance. To the left a huge oak out of sync with the rest of the scrub forest and probably planted, spread its branches.

  A shaggy brown dog stepped out from behind the oak. As tall as a Great Dane, it trotted forward on massive legs, its long tail held straight behind it. There was something odd in the way it walked, waddling slightly, more like a bear than a dog.

  Karina stepped between Emily and the beast.

  The animal stopped. Large brown eyes stared at them from a massive head crowned with round ears.

  “Don’t worry, he’s tame,” Lucas said behind her.

  The meld of dog and bear peered at Lucas and let out a short snort.

  “He doesn’t like it w
hen I phase into my attack variant,” Lucas said. “It weirds him out for a couple of days. Cedric, don’t be a dick. Let the kid pet you.”

  Another snort. She couldn’t really blame the dog. Considering how Lucas looked in his “attack variant” it was a wonder the dog stuck around at all.

  Cedric pondered them for a long moment and waddled over. Emily stretched out her hand. Karina’s insides clenched into a tight knot.

  Cedric nudged Emily’s hand with his nose, snorted again, and bumped the bulge in the front pocket of her hoodie.

  “What do you have in your pocket?” Karina asked.

  Emily dug into her pocket and pulled out a half-eaten apple.

  Not again. Karina kept her voice gentle. “Emily, you know you’re not supposed to have that . . .”

  Cedric sniffed at the apple. His mouth gaped open, revealing huge teeth.

  “He won’t hurt her,” Lucas said with absolute certainty in his voice.

  Emily held the apple out. Very carefully, almost gently, Cedric swiped it off her hand, sat on his behind, and raised the fruit to his mouth, holding it with long, dark claws. The black nose sniffed the apple, the jaws opened and closed, and the beast bit a small chunk from the fruit and chewed in obvious pleasure.

  “He likes it!” Emily announced and jumped down off the steps into the yard. “Come on, Cedric!”

  “Where are you going?” Karina took a step to follow.

  “Just to the tree.”

  The oak was barely fifty feet away. Karina bit her lip. Her instincts told her to clutch her child and not let go, but Emily needed to feel normal. She needed to play. Her daughter didn’t understand how precarious their situation was, she had no idea how vulnerable they were, and Karina had to keep it that way.

  Emily was looking at her. “Can I go?”

  “Yes. You can go.”

  Emily headed toward the tree. Cedric finished his apple in a hurried gulp, rolled to his paws, and followed her to the tree.