Alpha Knows Best Page 5

  "I think that anyone who is in power, no matter what position they have, is susceptible to being corrupt. It's knowing when to rein yourself in that is the key."

  Fagan wasn't sure that answered his question.

  "Look, while I am alpha here, and my word is final, these guys would never follow me if I was power hungry. They've been fighting too long, just like I have. At this point, we all just want a place to call home. I'm hoping you and I can provide that for them. They're more like brothers than pride members."

  "Oh." That actually sounded kind of nice. "I've never had a home before." Not a real one, and he didn't think his room back at the monastery qualified.

  Beck's arm wrapped around him, pulling him close to the alpha's side. "Then we'll just have to build a home for all of us, because I've never had a real home either."

  Fagan liked the sound of that.

  "Do you need to hold onto me or anything?"

  "I have my cane with me, but I prefer not using it if I can help it. If you'll let me hold onto your arm and tell me if I'm going to run into anything, that would be helpful. Once I get a chance to map the place out, it won't be a problem. I have a form of eidetic memory. I can remember any room I've mapped out, any face I've touched, and any voice I've heard before."

  "Handy."

  Fagan's eyes rounded for a moment. "Very."

  "Okay, the great room has the living room, kitchen, and dining room. There are French doors at one end, the front door at the other. Off of the great room are our bedroom, the guest bathroom, a guest room, and my office. One the far side of the room from where we are now is a set of stairs that go up to the second floor where the others have their room plus a rec room. There's also a pantry and laundry room off the kitchen and a hidden staircase that goes down to the basement."

  "Why hidden?"

  "That's where we do all of our training. There's an indoor gun range, armory, small infirmary, storage room, and a couple of bunks in case we need to be down there for awhile."

  Fagan squinted. "Are you preparing for armageddon?"

  It would be good to know this.

  "We stood as guards for the high council for twenty-five years, Fagan. We learned to hope for the best, but be prepared for the worst." Beck's arm moved against Fagan as he shrugged. "We're probably just a little more paranoid than we need to be, but I'd rather be prepared if things go to hell thaen get caught with my pants down."

  Fagan could understand that. It was kind of like making sure there was always a little extra food on hand in case you had unannounced visitors. It would be embarrassing to not have enough food to feed your guests. Better to be prepared just in case.

  "Will you teach me to shoot a gun?"

  Beck stilled. "You want to shoot a gun?"

  Fagan chuckled at the fear he could hear lacing Beck's voice. "I don't have plans to run off and rob a bank or anything, Beck. I just want to shoot one. I never have. I want to know what it feels like."

  "Okay, I guess we can do that." Beck started to walk again.

  From the layout he'd given and because they were after food, Fagan figured they were headed for the dining room or the kitchen. That was good. He was starving. He hadn't had anything to eat since lunch.

  "Your friends aren't going to get all weird if they see me mapping the place out, are they?" Mapping a room was a necessary evil for Fagan. He just hated when people treated him as if he was stupid or delicate after watching him.

  "After you put Jaggar in his place, I think they all have a healthy respect for you."

  Fagan winced. "I didn't mean to strike him. I hate violence, but I didn't know him and he was going toward me with angry intent. I merely protected myself."

  "You did good, little one. Jaggar knows it, I know it, and everyone else knows it. Jaggar had no business threatening you or making you feel like you were danger. He and I will be discussing his behavior at a later date."

  "I'd rather you didn't." He was never going to make friends this way. "I can take care of myself and now Jaggar knows it. If you jump in, he's going to think I need you to fight my battles."

  "Uh..."

  Fagan wanted to roll his eyes, but it was kind of lost on people with his milky white eyes and all. It usually weireded them out.

  "I don't mean big battles, Beck. Just...I'm not an invalid."

  "No, I get that, Fagan. I'm just not sure everyone will. I think people will see a blind man and assume you can't do anything on your own, even protect yourself."

  Fagan smiled. "Then we'll just have to prove them wrong."

  "Tell you what," Beck said. "I'll make you a deal."

  "What sort of deal?"

  "I'll let you do what you need to do under two conditions. One, if you ever need help, not matter how small, you will ask. I don't want you to be afraid or uncomfortable admitting there is something you can't do. We're mates. We're supposed to help each other."

  "Okay, I guess I can agree to that." It kind of made sense. "What's the other condition?."

  "If I feel your safety is in danger, you let me protect you without question."

  Fagan wasn't sure how he felt about that condition. "Beck—"

  "Baby, listen to me." Beck grabbed both of Fagan's arms. "I don't know how things were in the monastery, but out here life is precarious. You could get hit by a bus crossing the road."

  Fagan gulped. "A bus?"

  Maybe he'd skip crossing roads.

  "That's just an example. What I mean is that things can get dangerous, especially in the world of shifters. We're kind of testosterone driven. You saw that with Jaggar. You were able to deal with him, but you won' be able to deal with everyone in the same manner. A lot of people don't play fair. They'll use your lack of sight against you."

  "I'd like to see them try."

  Fagan suddenly understood what he'd been training for all of his life. Yes, he was to care for and protect his master, but he was also supposed to take care for himself. Blind or not, he had the ability to be a force in his new life.

  "I'll agree to let you protect me under my own condition. Let me fight my own battles until I need you. I'm going to fall down and bump into things. I'm going to get hurt. People are going to treat me differently. You can't save me from any of that, and that's your burden to bear."

  Fagan grunted when he was crushed in Beck's arms.

  "I will gladly take that burden on if it means having you in my life."

  Okay then.

  "Hey, guys," someone called out from the other room, "food is on."

  "That was Greyson, right?" Fagan asked.

  "It was," Beck agreed.

  "Guess we'd better go eat then."

  He was starving.

  Fagan sniffed the air as they walked closer to the dining room. His stomach began to knot with worry when he figured out some of what he was smelling. "Beck, I don't eat meat. I can't."

  Beck patted his arm. "I know, little one. There areis plenty of other things for you to eat. I can see a fruit tray, some different cheeses and breads. And I think there are a few different pasta dishes."

  Fagan blew out a relieved breath. "Okay, good. I tried meat once, not believing the elders, and I was so sick I wanted to die. I never took the chance again."

  "It won't be a problem if I eat meat, will it?"

  "No."

  Beck chuckled. "You had me worried there for a minute. I'm a tiger. We like our meat."

  "You can have it." Fagan shuddered just thinking about the one and only time he'd tried meat. He'd take almost anything else.

  Beck stopped. Fagan heard a chair scrape across the floor. He reached out until he felt the edge of the chair then sat down. It went a long way to show Fagan that Beck had heard him when the man didn't try and push his chair in.

  "So," Beck asked, "how hungry are you?"

  Fagan just smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  Beck hated leaving Fagan tucked up in their bed alone, but he had a lot of phone calls to make and Fagan needed his re
st. Beck had woken him more than once in the night and pounded him into the mattress. He probably should have gone a little easier on Fagan, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands off the sexy little man.

  He grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin from the kitchen then headed for his office. He doubted he'd eat the muffin, but it was the principleal of taking the damn thing. He had to look as if he had plans to eat it. For some reason he couldn't fathom, people tended to get fussy if he didn't eat breakfast.

  Namely Greyson. Luckily, the man was still in bed.

  Beck smiled as he set the muffin down on the edge of his desk then sat down. Maybe he didn't have to eat it after all. He didn't hear any other movement from anywhere in the house so he suspected he was the only one up at the moment. That would certainly make his phone calls a little easier.

  He had spent twenty-five years protecting the high council. He'd made a lot of contacts during that time. Some above board and some not so above board. He was positive at least one of them had the information he needed.

  Beck glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just a few minutes past eight o'clock in the morning. Good. That meant a few of the people he had to call would be up by now and a few hadn't gone to bed yet.

  He picked up the phone and made his first phone call. "Hello, Elder Ramsey," he said when the man answered the phone. "This is Montgomery Beck. I wonder if I can have a few minutes of your time?"

  "Beck, I didn't expect to hear from you. Shouldn't you be with your mate?"

  Beck smiled. "I just left him sleeping upstairs, sir."

  "To call me? Why, Beck, I'm touched." The man chuckled. "And slightly disturbed that you would be calling me instead of snuggling with your mate."

  "Yes, sir, but I'm calling about my mate."

  Ramsey's voice became serious when he asked, "Is there a problem, Beck?"

  "You could say that, sir. I'm not sure if you are aware, but I was attacked a couple of days ago heading home from council headquarters."

  "No, I wasn't aware. Are you okay?"

  "I am, sir. Greyson and the others went and got my mate. Bonding with him and shifting healed me."

  "Are you calling to lodge a complaint then?"

  "Yes, but not about the attack." Although, now that he thought about it, the attack seemed a little too coincidental. "When Greyson picked Fagan up, the man had no idea who I was or what mates even were. He didn't even know shifters existed."

  "What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Beck?. Omegas are sent to the monastery to learn about us, about what being a mate means. That's what we pay those damn humans for."

  "Oh, Fagan was given an education all right. He was taught how to serve his master."

  Dead silence.

  "Sir?"

  "Did you say master?" The question sounded bitter.

  "Yes, sir, I did. Fagan has grown up his entire life knowing he would be serving his master, although he was never informed of who that master was to be. Like I said, he knew nothing about me, shifters, or mates."

  "I see."

  "There's one more thing, sir."

  "What?"

  "Did you know all omegas are born blind?"

  "Blind?" Elder Ramsey barked. "The Sidhe are giving us defective mates?"

  Beck's rage was instant. "Fagan is not defective," he snarled. "He's perfect."

  "Thank you for that, Beck."

  Beck's head snapped up. He winced when he saw his mate standing in the doorway. "Fagan."

  Fagan smiled and sauntered into the room as if he'd been in there a million times before and had twenty-twenty sight. He easily moved around the desk then walked over and sat down on Beck's lap.

  "Beck?" Ramsey called out. "Beck, what's going on?."

  Beck wrapped one arm around Fagan then set the phone down on his desk. He hit the speaker button. "Elder Ramsey, my mate Fagan is here with me. I've put you on speaker so he can hear you."

  "Oh...uh...good morning, Fagan."

  "Good morning, Elder Ramsey," Fagan replied. "How are you this morning?"

  "A bit confused actually. Beck informs me that you were unaware of shifters or mates before you mated him. Is this true?"

  "Yes, sir," Fagan replied. "I was being trained to serve my master. I was never taught about shifters or mates or anything having to do with your world. I didn't even know I was Sidhe, sir. I thought I was human."

  "Do you have any bloody idea what this means, Beck?"

  Beck snorted. "It means someone fucked up."

  "The question is who?" Ramsey asked. "Who is doing this and who knows about it?"

  "Sir?" Fagan asked. "I don't understand why we were never taught about shifters or mates, but I can tell you we were given a very good education. We were taught languages, manners and etiquette, cooking, self- defense, sex-ed, you name it, we were—"

  "You were taught sex-ed?" the elder asked.

  "Of course. We needed to know how to pleasure our masters."

  Beck's jaw clenched with anger at the dismissive way Fagan spoke about being given sex education. It was so clinical, almost as if it had just been another lesson he'd learned, another class he'd taken. Considering how passionate he'd been in bed last night, he seemed totally disconnected now.

  "Fagan, how old were you when you learned you were to have a master?" Elder Ramsey asked.

  Beck could see where the man was coming from with that question, even if he didn't like the way the man phrased it. If they knew how old Fagan had been, then they might have a timeline of where to start looking for answers.

  Fagan shrugged. "I've always known, sir.

  Shit!

  "That gives us a window of twenty to twenty-five years," Beck pointed out. "Something else, sir,. I didn't think about it too much at the time, but Greyson said the headmaster didn't want to release Fagan. He told Greyson that Fagan had been promised to someone else. He only relented when Greyson threatened to call the high council."

  "I didn't know that," Fagan said. "Who did he say I was promised to?"

  "He didn't," Beck replied, "but Greyson said he seemed pretty scared of whoever it was. Only the threat to call the council changed his mind."

  "You suspect the headmaster?" Ramsey asked.

  Beck didn't want to point fingers, but..."I just think his behavior was out of place, sir. He knew Fagan belonged to me. I've sent enough money to that school over the years to pay for Fagan's education ten times over."

  Fagan's brow flickered as he turned. "You sent money to the school for me?"

  "Yes, of course."

  His frown deepened. "Why would you do that?"

  "Every shifter king is required to pay for his mate's education and upkeep," Elder Ramsey supplied. "It was part of the agreement we established with the humans who train them."

  "How much?"

  "Fagan," Beck started, "it doesn't really matter how—"

  "Over a quarter million dollars during the course of your stay at the monastery," Elder Ramsey supplied again.

  Beck grimaced. He really wished the elder would stop offering up information so easily. It wasn't that he didn't want Fagan to know what he'd done, but more that he wanted to explain to the man in his own time, in his own way. He didn't want Fagan top think he'd been bought and paid for.

  "A quarter of a million dollars?" Fagan paled. "What were you paying for?"

  "You," Beck insisted. "I wanted you to have the best education and life that you could before you came to me."

  "You don't understand," Fagan whispered. His milky white eyes flooded with tears. "We had nothing. I had nothing. I was allowed two changes of clothes. I never got to read a book of my own choosing or go to do what I wanted. My entire life was scheduled from the time I woke up until I went to bed at night. My down time was spent in heavy meditation, not because I wanted to meditate, but because I was ordered to."

  Beck growled as rage began to sizzle under his skin. It sounded to him as if Fagan had been a virtual prisoner in that damn monastery. A slave taught to s
erve his master.

  "Ramsey—"

  "I know, Beck, and I'll look into things on my end. You need to look into things on your end. Call me if you discover anything."

  "Can you get me a list of the shifter kings who have gone before me?" Beck asked. "I'd like to touch base with them and see if their omegas went through some of the same things Fagan did. It feels as if this has been going on a lot longer than we know about."

  And that wasn't good.

  "Let's keep this under wraps until we have concrete evidence something is actually going on," Ramsey said.

  "You know that—"

  "Yes, Beck, I know something is going on, but until we have proof, I can't take this to the other members of the high council. And, while I believe you, this story is so outlandish, it's insane. I need proof."

  Beck huffed. "Okay, I guess I can understand that."

  Regretfully, he could. He just didn't like it. Someone was messing with the carefully achieved balance of peace between the shifters, humans, and Sidhe. The ramifications if all of this was true were humongous. It could start another great war.

  "Call me tomorrow morning at this same time and we'll touch base."

  "Yes, sir," Beck replied. "Thank you, sir."

  "One more thing, Beck," Ramsey said. "Keep an extra close eye on your mate. If what the headmaster said is true and he was promised to someone else, I doubt they are going to give up simply because you claimed him. They've invested too much in training him to let him go now."

  Beck tightened his grip on Fagan when the man shivered. "No one is going to take my mate away from me."

  He'd kill anyone who tried.

  Beck hung up the phone after saying goodbye to the elder. He had more phone calls to make, but he needed to comfort his mate first. He pressed Fagan's head down against his shoulder then wrapped both arms around him.

  "I won't let anyone take you from me, Fagan. You know that, right?"

  "I know you'll try to keep me safe, but you can't plan for every eventuality."

  "No, that's true." As much as he hated to admit it. "But I will do everything I can to make sure you're safe."

  "Do you really think someone might come after me?"