by JJ King
Sins of the Father
The Guardians III
JJ King
The characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are completely fiction and are in no way meant to represent real people or places.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this eBook with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Copyright © 2017 JJ King
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition
DEDICATION
For Jaxon.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are so many people who cheered me on as I wrote this series. Candace and Juanita, as always, you were there whenever I needed you. And mom, so loving, so fierce, thank you for supporting me.
But it was my girls, my dedicated amazing street team members who helped me achieve this dream and make it perfect. Thank you Kallie, Fleisha, Mahli, Sandy, Arien, and Annamarie for reading my trilogy until it shined.
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Thank you
About the Author
Chapter One
July 11th– Montreal
Rose closed her eyes and focused on her mission. All around her the music pulsated, sending vibrations through the speakers, across the floor, and into her skin, setting her teeth on edge. The tiny club, tucked away down a long alley to make it more exclusive, was packed with bodies that were either drugged, drunk, or idiotic. It was taking every ounce of control she had not to push her way out from the throng.
The exposed brick wall the designer had probably added for authenticity scratched against the bare skin of her back and thighs as the thick, blocky man she’d picked up pawed at her and tried his best to kiss her on the mouth. His breath reeked of beer and stale cigarette smoke and, despite her dedication to the cause, there was no fucking way she was going to let him actually kiss her. Her neck, sure, but there were just some things she wouldn’t do, not even for family.
“Come on, baby,” he groaned into her ear with a thick French accent, his hot breath turning her stomach, “let me kiss you. You know you want to.”
Rose fought back the urge to vomit and tried her best to smile seductively at her prey, “I hate it here,” she pouted prettily, knowing her full lips and youthful look would gain her ample leeway with this guy, he seemed to like them young, “can you bring me somewhere,” she leaned in so he could hear her, “quieter?”
By the way his dick jumped in his too tight jeans, she figured he was game.
With a cocky grin and a look that said he knew he was getting laid tonight, the asshole grabbed her hand and began pulling her through the thick crowd. As they cleared the door and stepped into the moonless summer night, Rose sucked in a breath of moderately fresher air and reminded herself of why she was here.
Find the Alpha, stop the madness. Rose repeated the words like a mantra in her mind, letting the memories of screams and insanity fuel her resolve. This wasn’t what she’d been created for, but, by the Old Ones, this was what she’d do with her life before it ended.
She purposefully stumbled, keeping up the charade of her inebriation, making the man think he had the firm upper hand. It was cute, really, that he thought for a second he was the one in control, that she would ever let anyone control her actions ever again. Not cute, she gritted her teeth, amending her sentiment. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. Her stomach churned at his presence, at the knowledge of what he was, what he would do to her and her family if he knew what she was. If he knew she was a wolf.
Rose let him lead her along the street until they reached the alley she’d made note of earlier. It was a dark place, rarely inhabited by the city’s drug addicts because of its proximity to a corner store located right across the road, and perfect for her needs.
“I need to pee,” she giggled, pressing her legs together and leaning on him like a ditzy university freshman. Rose stumbled toward the alley and looked back over her shoulder to call out, “you keep watch and no peeking.”
The letch grinned and watched her walk unsteadily down the long alley, following behind at a sedate pace. He wasn’t planning on letting her relieve herself in private, she knew that. If he’d been that sort of man, she’d have never let him fondle her ass in the club.
At the end of the dark space, Rose turned, gasping in mock surprise as the fucker stepped up to her with a leering grin and pressed his body against hers, pushing her into the concrete wall hard enough to leave a bruise on her tailbone, if she’d been human.
“Ow,” she whimpered, pouting prettily and batting her lashes at him, feeding into his fantasy, letting him believe he’d be getting exactly what he wanted tonight. Rose smiled feebly, “You said you’d keep watch.”
“Oh, I’ll watch, alright,” he muttered, grinding his hips into hers. His hand lowered to the hem of her skirt and tugged it higher.
Enough of this shit, Rose thought, feeling the bile rise in her throat. She coiled, reached out with her right hand for the back of his neck, and viciously slammed her knee between his legs.
Caught off guard, the man, the hunter, crumpled into a heap on the alley floor, his entire body curling into itself to protect his man jewels from further attack. Rose grabbed the ties from her purse and secured them swiftly around his wrists and ankles while he gasped for breath. The moment they were secure, she fell back, eyes wild with adrenaline and fear. She’d done it. After all this time planning and practicing, she’d really done it.
Rose reached back into her purse and drew out a vial of clear liquid and a syringe. It was dark in the alley, too dark for a human to see what they were doing properly, but for her eyes, there was light enough by spades. Rose slipped the needle tip into the bottle and drew out just the right amount, then ejected just enough to make sure there were no air bubbles. It wouldn’t do to kill her informant before she got any information out of him. She’d have to start the entire process over again, in that case, and the thought of putting up with another hunter’s disgusting hands on her body made her feel sick. No, this one would yield what she needed.
The needle slipped so easily into the man’s skin. After a lifetime of watching needles enter her own flesh, it was weird to be the one administering it to another. Rose bit down hard on her bottom lip and began to count.
It didn’t take long before the serum began to take effect. It was a combination of potent medicines, including a little something she’d stolen from Raphael. A concoction she’d watched turn even the strongest of wolves into simpering idiots willing to spill their guts for a moment of relief and this guy wasn’t even a wolf.
The hunter’s eyes flew open in blind agony but no sound came from his mouth. No sound would until she allowed it. He struggled, trying to free himself and find relief from the fire burning through his veins, but there was no point. Rose leaned in close, “Where can I find the Alpha?”
♀♀♀
July 20th – Wild River
Rose grasped the bottle of water and chugged down as much as her body could han
dle. She choked, her throat not ready, and spat the last mouthful out on the floor of the cabin, right next to Katherine LaFlamme’s feet. Her sister’s feet.
She sucked in deep breaths, lengthening them a little with each inhalation to slow her heart rate, to calm her body and mind, just like her sisters had taught her. The worse the situation you were in, the more important it was to keep your thoughts in order. She remembered everything she’d been taught.
Closing her eyes for a moment, Rose centered her mind and let her thoughts realign. This woman was her sister Katherine and she was saying that her father, the Alpha, Pierre LaFlamme, was dead. Murdered, by the ferocity of Katherine’s grief. Rose mentally checked off the days during which she’d been traveling and realized that, unless she’d lost a shit load of time, it was unlikely one of her own had been responsible, which raised a big question. If not them, then who else had wanted Pierre LaFlamme dead?
Rose opened her eyes and gazed into the stricken face of a bereaved daughter. Her heart pinched. She knew loss, had known it her entire life because of the fallen Alpha. His death meant that the madness would stop. Still, she glanced away, there’d been another way.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, speaking as honestly as she could. She was sorry for Katherine and her family, sorry for the entire nation who had lost an Alpha who, by all accounts, was fair and beloved. She just wasn’t sorry for herself.
Katherine’s beautiful face contorted and she looked away, her gaze vague as if she saw nothing at all. Twigs and leaves clung to her wild red hair, making her look utterly mad, but Rose didn’t judge. Grief was like a blow to the gut, it took years of experience to be able to exist with it riding your back.
“Who are you?” Katherine’s voice broke on the repeated question. Her fists clenched and unclenched by her sides.
Rose cleared her throat, feeling the rawness grate against her voice box. She ground out the words Katherine needed to hear. “I am the daughter of Pierre LaFlamme, Alpha of North America.”
“Liar!” Katherine spat the words out, spinning towards her with wild eyes. “He would have never cheated on my mother! He loved her more than life.” Her chest heaved as she breathed too fast, letting her emotions overtake her. Rose watched with interest, she’d lost most of her emotions years ago. It was hard to imagine they came from the genetics of the same man.
Katherine’s eyes looked wild, too wide and glassy. She thrust her hands into her wild hair and pulled at the roots, looking at Rose then away, clearly on the verge of a breakdown. With a primal scream that left a ringing in Rose’s ears, Katherine slammed her fists against the wall next to Rose’s chair, then lowered her head and gasped for air.
Rose didn’t move. She’d seen rage more often than she’d ever be able to count and it was always best to pretend as if you weren’t even there.
“How?” Katherine’s voice was muffled against the wall but Rose heard it clearly enough. She braced herself for what would come, knowing there was only one way to extract information from someone. There was only so much she could tell, so the pain would last forever.
Rose remained silent, unsure of how to answer the open question. She tensed and waited for the blow. Seconds passed in silence broken only by the beating of their hearts and inhalations but nothing happened. Eventually, Katherine asked again.
“How do you know he’s your father?”
This question she knew and could answer. “DNA tests.” She nodded her head toward a small black bag they’d taken from her earlier. In it was everything she’d carried from her home to here, across the world to find her father. “Check the bag, you’ll see.” She knew Katherine wouldn’t accept the document she’d stolen from her prison as proof, that she would demand her own tests, but it was somewhere to start.
Katherine stalked away from her and ripped open the sturdy bag that had seen Rose from Ireland to Canada. The contents had already been inspected, she knew, they’d done it in front of her before the endless days of questions had begun. But, the papers weren’t tucked neatly into the bag with her deodorant and knives, it was sewn into a secret panel. She wasn’t an idiot.
“There’s nothing in here,” Katherine ground out between her clenched teeth and turned to glare at Rose.
“Turn it inside out and find the string at the bottom of the bag.” She hoped the thing hadn’t frayed during their inspections. Katherine turned back to the table and apparently followed Rose’s instructions, because a second later, she heard a ripping sound. The single piece of paper came out of the pocket easily. Rose caught sight of it as Katherine ducked her head to read it.
Silence spread through the small room like a deadly gas, thickening the air until it felt as if Rose would suffocate soon if no one spoke. She opened her mouth, not knowing what to say or do to get out of this cabin.
Katherine turned slowly, like a beautifully broken ballerina doll that had seen better days, and raised her head to look at Rose. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and her hands clenched and unclenched the letter. “It’s a fake,” her chin trembled, making her words come out a bit breathy, and the sound of it struck a chord in Rose’s chest that ached. They might be complete strangers, but this woman was her half-sister and she was, from everything she had seen, a complete badass Alpha she-wolf. The weakness coming off of her now was at complete odds with her character. Rose knew what it meant to fight for control, she’d done so all her life, so she could sympathize.
Rose shook her head, “It’s real,” she kept her voice strong and even. She could sympathize, but it wasn’t her style to be vulnerable. There was always someone there to take advantage of the weak and she’d promised herself and her family, long ago, that she’d stay strong.
The thought of her family, of the sisters she’d left behind, brought a wave of nausea, as always. She’d been battling the physical reminders of her absence since leaving Ireland and had been managing them because she was getting closer to her goal. But then she’d been captured and interrogated, and the sickness had gotten steadily worse. Not enough to make her lose composure, but enough to make her steely exterior harder to maintain.
But Pierre was dead and with him any hope of rescuing her family. Rose felt an overwhelming sense of dread mixed with bile rise in her stomach. She was captured with no way out. Her family was still there, locked away, and by now Raphael would have been contacted about her escape. There was no telling what he’d do in retaliation.
Her plan had crumbled the moment Pierre had died. The muscles in her stomach contracted, pushing the water she’d drank up into her throat. It took everything she had to not vomit, to push back the panic that threatened to take her mind. She needed to think, to find a new plan.
Katherine and her brothers would be in charge now. They could help. Her sisters were their sisters too. They would be morally obligated to help if she could just convince them to listen to her. But the one person who needed to listen was standing before her with empty eyes. Katherine looked defeated. Rose searched for the right words to reignite the fire in her half-sister’s soul.
“Please,” she forced out the supplication, hating the way it tasted on her tongue, “I came here for Pierre’s help. Now that he’s gone, I need yours.”
It was apparently the wrong thing to say, Rose realized, too late. Katherine stared at her with no expression, then turned on her heel and walked out of the room, slowly closing the door behind her.
“Fuck,” Rose muttered, closing her eyes in exhaustion. She’d broken her sister.
Chapter Two
Katherine watched her daughter play on the floor of the nursery, tumbling over the small porcelain doll she’d managed to pull from a low-lying shelf filled with toys and children’s books. She’d never liked dolls, not even as a small girl. She wondered if Eve would be the same. There had always been something eerie about a human looking toy that just stared at you, endlessly, with a smile painted neatly on its perfect little face. They were empty replicates of the real thing.
> She felt like that, now. Every moment she spent in public felt like a recitation of a play to which she’d forgotten the words. It all seemed so alien to her, so pointless. Her father was dead and she was supposed to be everyone’s rock, but she was faltering, like a brick building that had lost its cornerstone. She could crumble at any minute.
Katherine prayed no one was around when she did.
The sound of muted footsteps approaching pulled Katherine from her reverie. She turned her gaze toward the door and waited for her youngest brother to appear.
He knocked on the door frame, ever polite and thoughtful. Katherine looked at him, so handsome, so much like their father that it broke her heart. She lowered her gaze and turned back to watch her daughter.
“Kat?” He sounded tentative and he shouldn’t, she thought. This was his house, too. She was his sister, he should be comfortable coming to her. Normally he would be. She should find out what was wrong and fix it. Only, Katherine couldn’t bring herself to care. She offered him her best, a small smile that she knew didn’t reach her eyes or soul.
