Plans Begin To Take Shape

How much more of this could he take? Mason wondered. He threw his wrench onto the ground, shoving himself out from under the hood of the vintage 1969 Charger he was rebuilding. Climbing to his feet off the backboard, he paced the garage shoving both hands through his hair in agitation. The tremors that wracked him also disgusted him.

He hated it. And now he was aware enough to know he was a fucking addict. 72 days. Dear God in Heaven, his guts were twisted in knots with the gnawing agony of waiting for a fix. And he hated himself for the traitorous thoughts of offering Caroline up as a sacrifice to feed his needs, because that was not him.

Rage tore through him, sending adrenaline shooting into his bloodstream. He was grateful that he no longer had the enhanced strength that came with the Vitae as he picked up a hammer and hurled it at the wall of the garage. It plowed into the drywall and hung there, but at least it didn’t tear all the way through to the house.

He stalked out of the garage, unable to focus on fixing the car any more. Maybe music would help. But as he stepped into the kitchen, his wife stood with her hands braced on the counter and her head hanging down between her shoulders. She looked… defeated. Feral growls erupted from his throat and he struggled to swallow them but was unable to keep the door from slamming into the wall from the force he used to push it open. Caroline went taut as she sensed the slam of the door against the back wall of the kitchen. She turned slowly, warily, to face him. His jaw locked. He hated that look on her face, but he couldn’t blame her. He knew that his temper was on a very short leash these days.

“Who was it?” he demanded, damn near out of control with the need to shred someone. NO ONE was going to make his wife look like that. Never. Caroline held up her hands in that placating motion he hated, but he couldn’t blame her. As he prowled his way around the island where she stood he could sense the subtle tension in her body, the anticipation. Electricity arced between them, and in this mood he knew there were moments he was truly dangerous to her.

“It wasn’t Evangaline, Mason,” she breathed softly, trying to calm him.

Her handling of him, though, just rubbed at his raw nerves like sandpaper on his skin. “So who was it?” Mason’s voice was a menacing purr, and he could see his wife reacting despite not being able to hear him. Before she’d lost her hearing again, that very dangerous, low voice had turned her on like crazy. Now it was merely the memory of the sound and perhaps the uncertainty of his mood that made her eyes dilate and her breathing pick up. He eased into her personal space, crowding her back against the counter, and her hands fluttered up to rest on his chest as his calloused hand slid up her breastbone to clasp around the base of her throat in a possessive movement.

“Irina DiSanti is back in town,” she told him baldly, her voice nearly nonexistent. He could almost taste her fear. She was holding something back, and it sparked the rage. Oh so cautiously, he tightened his grip on her neck, a silent warning that he was nearing the end of his patience. “It’s time,” Caroline whispered.

He’d known what she was going to say before she said it. And now his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl of rage. “I’ve done told you before, darlin, you’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’m lettin’ her have you. I don’t care what we have to do. Yer grandmother made me promise, Caro.”

“My grandmother is in Eliza’s pocket, Mason,” she retorted. “Irina and Renny being back in town changes things. Maybe just enough. They helped us get rid of Cotton and Midnight. Irina’s willing to help us get out from under Evangaline and Eliza too.” She swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of his fingers around her throat but not afraid of him in the slightest. To the contrary, his possessive hold on her was comforting. “She’s takin’ Chance to Atlanta, to Mama. Before Court. With him out of the picture, Mase…. We can fight back.”

Freedom. He craved his freedom from those bitches almost as much as he craved their blood. He could feel it pounding through him, the burning desire to kill the two women who held him and his family prisoner. “That don’t mean we gotta let her turn you,” he insisted in a near-growl. He could feel the trembling of her body under his hands. The addiction never seemed to be gripping her as hard as it did him, but he knew the truth: In some ways, it gripped her harder. She was just better at hiding it, thanks to the honed-steel hidden in a velvet glove that was her grandmother.

“Mason…” Caroline leaned forward, putting her forehead against his and closing her eyes. “If I don’t do this soon, she will take the choice out of my hands. She will punish me… either by making me kill you. Or making me watch you kill Chance. Or something equally as horrific.”

He couldn’t stop the visceral reaction. Whipping his body away from hers, he roared and slammed the entire drain board full of dishes to the floor with a resounding crash. Caroline stifled a scream behind him at the violence of the movement, and he fought to rein it back in. “She’s NOT takin’ our son, woman!” he yelled as he rounded to face her again.

“I know!” Caroline shouted back. And then she raised her hand to his jaw. “Mason… Irina coming back … made me think of a crazy plan. It’s so crazy it just might work.”

He fought to listen to her, his hand coming back up to cradle the back of her neck and haul her against him. She was his reason for being. For existing. He just had to hold onto it.

“I’m going to let her turn me after Irina’s got Chance out of Dodge. And then I’ll turn Grandmama.” Her words were rushed, trying to cut off his reaction and get as many of them out into the open as possible before he exploded. “If you want to remain human for Chance, I’ll bond you to me. Evangaline promised me.” If the bitch kept her word. “If you don’t want to stay human… we’ll bond a nanny. And I’ll ask Cord to turn you.”

It took him long moments to parse her words. “What the fuck?” he demanded, pulling back to look down into her face. He could feel his temper rising yet again. It was a constant battle these days and getting worse all the time.

“You’re better suited to that skillset, Mason,” Caroline told him softly. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have that further tie to Cord. You know he’s a damn good man to have in a fight.” Her eyes went cold. “This is for all the marbles, darlin. We’re either takin’ those women down … or we’re dyin’ tryin’.”

His soul rejoiced to hear her ready, finally, to fight back. But he was terrified by the look in her eyes. Two years under Evangaline had hardened them both. He could still see the sweet, innocent young woman he’d always loved. Now he just loved her more for the core of pure titanium that she possessed. Leaning down to kiss her swiftly, he growled, “It’s about time, baby.”

She kissed him back heatedly, and they lost some time tangled up in one another. Finally, though, Caroline laughed softly. “You go take Chance to the park. Irina’s comin’ for tea. Let’s see about fomenting a rebellion. Again.”