Under Sean’s Protection by Lisa Oliver

Chapter Ten

“Boy, wouldn’t the council love to see this.”

Tron was likely referring to the fact that all four assassins, three of their mates, and their former trainer were together in one room. “They’d either weld the doors shut or bomb the entire fucking building,” he added.

Sean wasn’t in the mood for Tron’s mini attempt at humor. Just get on with the fucking plan.

“We haven’t been able to confirm the location of Kyle Hyam at present,” Tron continued, “but he is being held under order of the council. For what it’s worth, he’s being held legally.”

Sean looked up at Tron with pained surprise in his eyes. Whose side was Tron on?

“But you’re assassins, trained by me. I think I speak on behalf of all of us when I say who gives a fuck about legalities right now.”

Sean sighed with relief. That answers that.

“Aiden, as alpha, you may disagree, and for that I’m sorry.”

“Politics can wait,” Aiden said. “What matters is getting Kyle back as quickly and safely as possible. If there’s a way to do so legally, I’m all ears, but it’s not my priority.”

Sean nodded a quick acknowledgement to Aiden. Doing this with the blessing of the alpha was a huge bonus.

“Obviously, the council’s plan in taking Kyle is to draw the three of you back to them.” Tron gestured to Sean, Levi, and Marcus. “As I said before, they let go of getting Ranger back once he was mated to the alpha. Though I’m sure they wouldn’t kick you out of the reunion party if you showed up of your own free will.”

“Fat chance,” Aiden said. Sean watched as Ranger reached around and gave his mate a reassuring squeeze of the hand.

That should be me with Kyle.

“So, we have to assume they have a plan to keep you all there when you show up for the exchange,” Tron said.

“Or die trying,” Marcus threw in, “which is a helluva lot more likely. The council has never been a fan of anyone making up their own minds about anything.”

The plan, Sean kept thinking. Get on with the fucking plan.

“Exactly. They’ve already threatened to break your bonds, using shamanism or whatever means necessary, to get you all to bend to their will.”

“These are our true mates, Tron,” Levi said standing side by side with Cam. “It’s gonna require some pretty heavy voodoo to break mine.”

“Oh, that’s the easy part, as far as they’re concerned,” Tron said. “More of a formality so the bonds are dissolved on paper. The real work will be the re-indoctrination and psychological separation.”

“Our so-called training,” Levi said, his face going a bit red.

It was clear from their faces that all four of the assassins were reliving their own experiences with training.

“What do you know about that, Tron?” Ranger asked. “Would it even be effective on us now? We’re not lost boys anymore. Our brains are very different than they were back then.”

Sean watched as Tron walked slowly towards the window. He looked out for a moment, as everyone waited for what they didn’t want to hear.

“There was always a contingency component in the training,” Tron quietly confessed. “Council may be stupid sometimes, but they’re not naive. The possibility that you would all mature and seek a life outside of the one you were being trained for was anticipated.”

Sean’s spine began to tingle. “Anticipated how?” he asked.

Tron stood still at the window, slowly shaking his head back and forth, reticent to speak.

“You trained us,” Sean continued. “What the fuck haven’t you told us?”

“There are some things you’re better off not knowing,” Tron said, firmly.

“No. Sean’s right,” Ranger said. “You owe it to us.”

“Look, suffice to say, all they have to do is get you back into custody. All four of you, ideally, but they’ll settle for three.”

“And then what?” Sean had to know.

“I can’t say anymore,” How can Tron be so calm? “I just want you all to be aware of the risk. It’s never been an issue in the past because you all worked independently and did as you were told. But now, you’re moving into territory the council has contingency plans for - you have to tread carefully on this one.”

Sean edged towards the door. He was ready to run, to find Kyle on his own, to not endanger the others. But the talking wasn’t over and he needed to know the danger too…

“Tell us this,” Marcus said, apparently relaxed with his arm over Shadow’s shoulder. But Sean could see through the pose. His fellow assassin was furious. “If you’re not there to implement whatever magic they have up their sleeve, do we have anything to worry about?”

Tron’s self-deprecating laugh shook the room.

“I wish I were so important to the council that I’d be the only one with the knowledge to do what’s necessary, but they would never take that risk. Someone else there will know what to do to get you back in line.”

“So, we need to get in there, grab Kyle, and get the hell back without getting caught,” Levi announced. “Sounds like a fairly doable plan, especially with the three of us working on this one.”

“Four of us,” Ranger said. “We’re all in this together.”

Sean relaxed, just a fraction. The ache from being apart from Kyle still filled his chest and his wolf was lurking just under his skin. But despite their training, years of being loners and not trusting anyone, the four assassins had found their mates and the meaning of home. Tron started going on again about the risks, but they didn’t matter. Nothing Tron could say would dissuade the four of them from working together on a common goal.

That was, until Aiden’s phone rang – with a video call.

/~/~/~/~/

For the second time in his life, Kyle’s hands were bound. This time he was secured to a chair - a dentist’s chair or similar - that could be moved into different positions. He reckoned that he wasn’t in for a complimentary cleaning and did his best to stay calm, even though his wolf was getting anxious. His vision was fuzzy, and Kyle felt like he was waking up from too much of a deep sleep.

Bright lights. Fuck. Kyle blinked, and then blinked again, finally making out what seemed to be a phone mounted to a tripod. He was conscious of someone standing behind him. I bet they’re not dentists. Kyle tried not to let his panic show. Looking down, he noticed he was covered in a light blue sheet and his neck was exposed.

“Well, hello, everyone there in the Northern Territories,” a voice said into the camera. Kyle recognized it immediately. Tilting his head up as much as he could, due to his restraints, he saw Janelle addressing the little red light.

“As you can see, young Kyle is safe and sound, except for a nasty bite wound on his neck. Because Kyle’s health and safety is our number one concern, since he’s officially under the care and protection of the council, we deemed it best to treat this wound right away, lest it become infected.”

“Sean,” Kyle tried to say, but found he couldn’t. His tongue felt like it weighed a hundred pounds in his mouth, and he couldn’t find his voice. He wondered if he was dreaming, since he’d had these kinds of nightmares in the past where he couldn’t speak or scream or even lift a finger, no matter how hard he tried.

“Our first concern, of course, is rabies. One can’t be too careful nowadays, and the last thing we want to see is Kyle come down with an infection. Doctor, if you would please?”

Kyle watched in horror as the doctor tapped a hypodermic needle a couple of times to prime the fluid. He sat/lay helpless as the needle was inserted into his neck. At least he couldn’t feel the prick. Why can’t I feel the prick?

“These kind of nasty bites can lead to scar development if the trauma pierces the middle layer of the skin, also known as the dermis,” Janelle said, and then peered over the shoulder of one of the doctors. “Which it appears to have done.”

It’s supposed to leave a mark, you crazy bitch. Again, Kyle tried to speak. Though he could feel his lips moving, no sound came out of his mouth.

“When the skin is damaged like this,” Janelle continued to say into the camera, “the body’s cells synthesize massive amounts of collagen to fill in the open wound and rebuild the cellular structure of the skin. This is all part of a healthy, natural response to trauma, but it can lead to collagen build up and scar tissue overgrowth. Not something we want for our boy, is it?”

Trauma? The only trauma I’m undergoing is what you’re doing to me now. Kyle concentrated every ounce of his energy towards getting words out of his mouth, but whatever drug they had him on was making that almost impossible.

“So, after careful analysis and consideration, we’ve made the decision to suture the wound together, just as a precaution.”

Suture? She wants to stitch up Sean’s bite mark?

“Whenever you’re ready, Doctor.”

Kyle couldn’t feel any pain but was fully aware of the suture needle piercing his skin. He’d been through this before, as a kid, when he sliced his knee open after sliding into second base unaware of the broken glass around it.

“Assuming he’s back home in the next ten to fifteen days, the sutures can be removed by a qualified practitioner.”

Back home? Assuming? Sean, I need you. Where are you?

Kyle cried the name of his mate, his protector, with as much force as he could manage. What came out of his mouth was a great deal of air and a single audible syllable: “Onnnnnn.”

“Oh, did you hear that?” Janelle said, feigning too much excitement and fuss at the sound. “The little fellow is trying to speak. Let’s get a little closer and see if we can’t make out what he’s saying.”

Kyle watched as she unfastened the phone from the tripod and positioned it above his face. It blocked the light for a moment, which he was thankful for.

“Kyle, sweetie, can you repeat what you said? I don’t think the camera picked it up.”

Once again Kyle tapped his body for stores of energy and was able to get the ’S’ in now. “Sean” he moaned, albeit in a whisper. Maybe the drug was wearing off?

“Sean,” Janelle repeated. “Isn’t that sweet. I seem to recall knowing a Sean once upon a time. An assassin, owned and trained and still the property of the council. Could it be the one and the same Sean?”

Kyle was not happy to find Janelle lying beside him now, holding the phone above like she was taking a selfie of the two of them relaxing on the chair. He could smell her perfume. It was nauseating.

“What a coincidence that would be, hey Kyle? Both of us knowing the same illusive, invisible killer?” Kyle took his eyes away from Janelle and looked into the camera. He managed a smile and mouthed ‘I love you’ into the lens.

“Sean, dear, if it is you watching, after all these years, please understand that I don’t want to hurt Kyle. That’s the last thing I want. But I’m prepared to if you and your friends have not reported to council by sunset tonight. I’m authorized to use ‘whatever means necessary’ to bring you in.”

Kyle squirmed helplessly as Janelle slowly tugged the blue medical sheet down, exposing his chest, stomach, and finally his sleeping cock. He noticed she was tilting the camera down at the same pace, recording the reveal as it happened.

“The instructions are simple. At sunset, I’ll get a call from the council. If you’re not all there, I’ll have his pretty cock and balls cut off and fed to the pigs.”

Kyle’s eyes flashed in horror. Janelle tilted the camera back up just in time to catch the tears forming in the corner of them.

“I highly doubt that’s a wound you’ll be able to stitch back up so neatly.”

And with those final terrifying words, Kyle watched her turn the camera off and hand it to one of the enforcers as she climbed off the chair.

“Make sure that video went through,” she instructed him, “I’m not up for a retake.”