Burning Ash

by N. J. Walters

  If the wolf broke free before they’d come to an accord, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the next battle as depleted as he was.

  “Jo Radcliffe is a pawn in a game she never asked to play.” He had to get through to him. He gritted his teeth as Bjorn struggled against the thrall. One of them was going to break, and soon.

  “Someone is trying to destroy us, the Brotherhood. Or maybe they’re after Maccus. We’re all part of a greater plan.” Since touch was calming, he rubbed the top of the wolf’s head, sifting his fingers through the thick fur. “Sorry, but this is going to hurt,” he muttered. With that warning, he yanked out the crossbow bolt and tossed it toward Jo.

  The wolf gave a low growl of pain and displeasure.

  I’m not getting through to him.

  If he didn’t, someone was going to die.

  “I don’t want to kill you, my friend, but I can’t let you do this. You took everything you were given at face value. Think! Who would know enough about you to know it would set you off? Some members of the Brotherhood and Odin. The Brotherhood would never betray you in that way. And quite frankly, Odin doesn’t give a shit.”

  The growling ceased, and the wolf’s sharp blue eyes narrowed as if in consideration of what he’d been told. It gave him a glimpse of hope.

  “This isn’t humans or even regular paranormals meddling in our affairs. It has to be someone with a great deal of influence and authority. They’ve sent anonymous emails I can’t trace, hacked our website. They know what buttons to push with each of us, and they’re doing just that. I don’t know about you, but it’s pissing me off. I’d rather have you on my side trying to figure this out instead of fighting you.

  “What do you say?” This could go either way, but he had to release Bjorn. Blood seeped from the corners of Asher’s eyes. His head was about ready to explode, the pressure unbearable.

  The wolf was going to break free any second. When that happened, he would lose the edge he currently had.

  “Jo, when I release you both, run to the bedroom. There’s a panic room that can be accessed through the closet. It was there when I bought the building and moved in.”

  There was so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to kiss her one more time, to feel her lips against his. But he couldn’t let her see him like this. She’d never leave if she saw the tracks of blood rolling down his cheeks.

  Bjorn was at full strength while his was waning. He would likely die here tonight. All he could do was pray the panic room would hold the wolf off until Maccus arrived.

  Because if Bjorn enacted his vengeance, his life would be forfeit.

  God, he was so tired of all the blood and death, of never having peace.

  Being with Jo had given him a taste of what life could be—the laughter, intimacy in and out of bed, having someone to talk to and share with who knew exactly what he was. It was a precious gift.

  It had also given him an understanding of the anger driving Bjorn. Loving her as he did, there were no lengths he wouldn’t go to in order to keep her safe. If someone took her from him, he’d go mad with grief.

  He’d done all he could.

  Dropping down into a defensive position, he released the thrall and prayed Jo would heed his instructions. He didn’t have enough left in him to force her to safety.

  The air shimmered and the wolf became a man once more. Blood was smeared across his arms and torso, but the wounds had healed.

  “You’re more powerful than you let on, bloodsucker.”

  “What can I say? I’m special.” Was she moving into the bedroom? He couldn’t hear any movement. Blood had seeped from his ears, affecting his ability to hear.

  “You’d die for her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” He tilted his head to one side, and one of his braids fell over his shoulder. Tattoos of runes and wolves and magic darkened his skin, covering about half of his body.

  Keep him talking. “Ten thousand years I’ve walked this earth. For the first time, I don’t feel alone.” He’d formed short attachments, but never lasting bonds. “I feel your sorrow for your family,” he continued.

  “They slaughtered my wife, my two sons and daughter. Olga had only seen three summers. Three.” Sorrow engulfed Bjorn. A tear rolled unashamedly down his cheek. “Do you know what it is like to find the bodies of your children? To not recognize your own wife because she’d been beaten so severely in her defense of them?”

  “No. And no man should ever have to face that.” His heart bled for his friend. “But killing an innocent woman won’t bring them back. What would your wife say if she knew you did that?”

  Bjorn threw back his head and howled. The mournful sound ripped into Asher’s heart. He shed a tear of blood for his friend and the family he’d lost.

  Not knowing what else to do, he dragged Bjorn into his arms. “I’m here. Let me help you.”

  Huge hands rested on Asher’s shoulders. The second his guard was down, Bjorn pounced.

  …

  Bawling like a baby wouldn’t help the situation, but it was hard not to break down. His story was too reminiscent of her own. She sniffed back tears and rubbed her hand under her nose.

  Shit, I am crying.

  To lose his wife and children. That was a torture designed to break any man.

  Asher was not going to be happy she hadn’t run for the panic room, but there was no point. There wasn’t a panic room built that could hold off this werewolf. And Asher was injured. She’d actually turned to leave when she’d glimpsed blood on his neck. Was he still bleeding? Why wasn’t he healing?

  Moving with stealth, she slipped along the wall until she could see his face.

  Blood seeped from his eyes and ears. His normally healthy-looking olive-toned skin was pale. It had cost him to hold Bjorn in a thrall. Two apex predators, their fight had simply moved from the physical to the mental plane. Not to mention the blood he’d lost during the fight.

  The two men hugged. Asher’s compassion moved her deeply.

  She pressed her hand against her chest and sniffed again.

  The wolf raised his head and pinned her with an icy glare. He shoved Asher aside and raced toward her. Death was coming for her, breathing his chilly breath down her neck.

  She could fight, but she would lose. And how could she injure a man who’d already been through so much? So she did the only thing she could. She dropped her weapons and lowered her head.

  Eyes shut, she waited for pain that didn’t come. She finally opened one eye and then the other. They were practically nose to nose.

  “Fight me.”

  She shook her head. “No. I know what it does to you to lose your family. A vamp slaughtered my parents when I was a teenager. I’ve dedicated my life to eradicating them.”

  “Asher is a vamp.” His voice was low, almost guttural. “You planning on killing him?”

  A nervous laugh escaped her, coming out almost like a hiccup. “I tried. Twice.”

  “You still haven’t tried a flamethrower.” Asher zipped over to her side and circled his arm around her. She leaned into him and touched her hand to his face.

  “You’re a mess.” His poor eyes were bloodshot, and blood still trickled from his ears. Shouldn’t that have stopped by now?

  His confession that he didn’t feel alone when she was with him warmed her. He’d done the same for her. Even though she’d fought it, hadn’t wanted it, he’d wormed his way into her heart.

  He shrugged as though it was no big deal. “Couldn’t be avoided.”

  “How can you be with him?” Bjorn demanded.

  “I destroyed the one who took my parents from me. I’ve tracked down those who have preyed on innocent people. Asher and I met on a hunt.”

  “Good times,” he quipped.

  She rolled her eyes and tried to act relaxed even though her s
tomach was roiling. She rubbed her damp palms over her thighs.

  “What I’ve come to learn is that not all vampires are evil. I met some recently who are simply living their lives with the family of their making. There will always be killers, those that need to be put down, but not all of them do. And the decent ones? They’re not responsible for the others.”

  She sucked in a breath and rubbed the side of her nose. “My life has taken some strange turns these past days. But if I harm the innocent, then I’m no better than the murdering monster that killed my parents simply because he wanted my mother. She was beautiful and kind. Everyone loved her.”

  “Anja was like that.” Bjorn’s eyes bore into her, reflecting rage and pain and uncertainty. “She sang often, even during the long, hard winters.”

  “She loved you and your children. My mother had the voice of an angel.” The memory soothed her. “It’s easier to let the rage take over your life. It gives you a purpose, but you lose the good. I want to remember my parents laughing and dancing around our small home. It was taken from me, but I avenged them as you have your family. Your wife wouldn’t want this for you.”

  “How the fuck would you know what Anja would want?” His angry growl made her legs tremble, but she held her ground.

  “Because I’m a woman. If she loved you, she’d want what was best for you. And this isn’t it. But if it will ease your pain, then kill me. I won’t stop you.”

  “I will.” Asher pressed a kiss to her forehead and eased her behind him, leaving her staring at his back. She placed her hand on it. Whatever happened, they were in it together. “What’s it going to be?”

  The elevator door slid open, and pure menace poured into the room. It was a calling card she’d never forget.

  Maccus stepped into the room. “Well, Bjorn, answer him. What’s it going to be?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Son of a bitch. Things had deteriorated fast. His sympathy for Bjorn had almost had catastrophic results. Asher wouldn’t let his guard down again. Jo was his priority.

  “The great and scary leader of the Brotherhood is making an appearance. Should I feel honored?” Still naked as the day he was born, Bjorn crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

  Ouch! The sarcasm was as sharp as a blade. Any hope the new arrival would prevent another fight, not cause one, vanished.

  Maccus’s scowl reached epic proportions, his brows lowering, his jaw tightening. A muscle ticked in his face. “You’re fucking right you should feel honored.” He stalked forward, his gaze sweeping the room, seeing the destruction. Several chairs were smashed, and the sofa would never be the same again. “Redecorating, Asher?”

  “Figured it was time for a change. Where’s Morrigan?” He couldn’t believe she’d stay behind, at least not willingly.

  The elevator doors pinged open again. “I’m here.” She gave a little wave. “Wow, you guys don’t fool around, do you?” She strode forward as though she didn’t have a concern in the world. “I’m Morrigan.” She held her hand out to Bjorn. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Maccus growled in frustration. Bjorn seemed bemused but proved how smart he was by waiting for a nod from the angel before accepting her hand.

  “My, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” She looked him over from head to toe. Maccus wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her away from the wolf. “I haven’t met a werewolf yet. Angels, demons, vampires, and assorted others, but not a werewolf.”

  Jo gave a snort of laughter, catching Morrigan’s attention. “Hey. Glad you’re still alive.”

  “Me, too. I was hoping we’d meet again, but I had coffee or drinks in mind.”

  Morrigan tilted her head toward Bjorn. “What do you think?”

  “Impressive.”

  “For fuck’s sake, women, stop talking about me as though I can’t hear you.” He stalked across the room, grabbed his jeans, and pulled them on.

  “Why not?” Jo asked. “Men do it all the time.”

  Was Bjorn blushing? Asher thought he might be. Morrigan had a gift for diffusing tense situations. “Shall we retire to the kitchen since the living room is…” He tried to come up with something tactful to say about the state of his home.

  “Wrecked,” Jo added, a smile teasing the corners of her lips.

  “Yes, wrecked.”

  “I should go.” Bjorn pulled on his boots.

  “No, you should stay. We need to get to the bottom of this.” He turned to Maccus. “We need to communicate better as a group. The only reason this happened is because we keep to ourselves too much.”

  “So, you want what? A corporate retreat?” he mocked.

  “That’s a brilliant idea.” Morrigan beamed.

  Asher ran his tongue over his teeth, wondering if he was about to get them knocked down his throat. “I wouldn’t go quite that far,” he added quickly. “But regular emails and alerts wouldn’t hurt. The message board rarely gets used.”

  “While all this kumbaya shit is fine and good, we still have a big fucking problem.” Maccus had manifested a blade from his body and was currently flipping it end on end. Asher hoped he didn’t decide to use it on one of them.

  “Someone is using me to get to the Brotherhood.” Hands on her hips, Jo glared at the rest of them. “And I for one am getting tired of it. And Bjorn, I’m sorry whoever is behind this used your grief for your family.”

  He gave a curt nod, tension thrumming through him.

  They were all on edge. They were three of the most powerful men in the world. It was only natural they’d all want to prove their dominance to the others, especially Bjorn. Part wolf, he knew the male struggled with issues he and Maccus didn’t have to deal with.

  “Okay, we’ve asked the question several times before, but it bears repeating.” Jo pointed a finger at herself. “Why me? There must be something about me or my past that plays into this. If we can figure it out, maybe we can track whoever is behind this.” She looked to Bjorn. “Asher says you’re the best tracker in the world.”

  “He said that?” Bjorn shook himself. “He’s right, I am.” His voice was gruff, but there was a note of pleasure.

  “I don’t know what your talents are,” she told Maccus. “But I assume you have some. And Asher has proven time and again he’s not just another pretty face.”

  He grinned at the other two men. “She thinks I’m pretty.” He batted his eyelashes, knowing it would make Maccus crazy. Maybe he was nuts, but it was his life mission to get the guy to loosen up.

  “Maybe too pretty.” Maccus fisted his hand and raised it.

  Jo stepped in front of him. “I’d like to keep him that way. If you don’t mind?”

  “He is pretty, isn’t he?” Morrigan look at him in a way that made him uncomfortable, especially given the promise of mayhem and murder on Maccus’s face. “I much prefer the rugged type myself.” She patted the big guy’s chest. “But Asher is pretty.”

  “I have a brain,” he felt the need to remind them. “When did we lose control of the conversation?” he asked the other men.

  “We never had it.” Bjorn’s face softened in a way he’d never seen before. “My Anja was like that. She had a way about her.” His expression hardened again. “Someone tried to taint her memory by goading me to act dishonorably. I tender my resignation to the Brotherhood. I am not worthy to be one of you.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up,” Maccus retorted. “Not accepted. You’re one of us. Get your furry tail out of its knot and start working with us rather than against us.”

  “My furry tail? I’m not sure if I should hug you or punch you.” He might tease, but Asher could see the pure relief in his Brother’s eyes.

  “Why don’t we go out and find somewhere to have a meal?” he suggested.

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Jo asked. “All things considered.”

  “No, he
’s right.” Maccus slung his arm around Morrigan. “It’s a show of unity. Whoever is behind this will be watching or have a minion keeping tabs. Seeing us all together, not trying to kill one another, will send a strong signal.”

  “Yeah, like ‘you failed, try again.’” Jo picked up the bolt she’d dropped on the floor and shoved it back into the holder strapped to her waist. “Sorry about that,” she said to Bjorn.

  He shrugged. “Barely felt it.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Great. By all means, let’s all go out together. All the paranormal people and the lone human.”

  “I’ll keep you safe,” Asher promised. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. The adrenaline from the battle still thrummed through his veins. Bloodlust was riding him hard. The fluttering pulse in her neck was a beacon that drew him.

  “We’ll keep you safe.” Bjorn nodded at them. “I offer my services as reparation for what I did.”

  That was a huge deal, and he was grateful. It was also the Viking custom and would go a long way to making the wolf feel as though he still had a place in the Brotherhood. He raised an eyebrow at Maccus.

  “What? The two of you aren’t enough?”

  “We’ll help where we can,” Morrigan assured him.

  There was an itch between his shoulders, something nagging at his brain that warned this was far from over. He needed to be at his best. “Excuse me a moment.” He hated leaving Jo, but this couldn’t wait.

  He zipped into the pantry off the kitchen and consumed two bags of blood as fast as possible. He had to be at full strength from here on.

  He was back in the living room in less than thirty seconds. “Let’s go.”

  Jo blinked at him. “Ah, you might want to change first.”

  He glanced down at his ripped shirt and bloody torso. “Give me a second.” He hurried to the bedroom, stripped off the dirty shirt, washed, pulled on a fresh one, and was back in the living room in no time.

  “Wow, that was fast.”

  He winked at her. “I’m slow when it counts.”

  …

  Jo rolled her eyes. After everything that had happened, Asher was still teasing and making jokes. She was on to him, though. It was his way of dealing with the situation.