by Mary Hughes
She wouldn’t have believed it possible, but Gabriel’s scowl darkened. “Right. Change of priorities. Number one, punch Bruiser into next year.”
“The key helps with our most pressing problem,” Goodwin said. “Breaking Sophia out of jail must be our number one priority. It’s dangerous to leave her at the mercies of this particular Enforcer. In fact, I’d argue we can’t afford to wait. We must use the partial key now.”
“And let the other jails crack?” Gabriel stared at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“He has a point,” Pan said. “Did you see how quick the Enforcer showed up at the pet store? It’s personal, Gabriel. He won’t rest until your whole family is imprisoned—or worse. We need to break her out ASAP.”
“Didn’t you hear Jayden?” Gabriel asked. “The man’s a tube of hemorrhoid cream, but we can’t ignore creatures capable of global annihilation. A few days of research—”
“May not solve a thing.” Goodwin waved his hamburger for emphasis. “I never thought I’d say this, but now is a time for action, not research. This Enforcer is not rational. He has nursed a childhood enmity into adult hostilities, imprisoning your sister and shackling you. We must assume he’ll continue to escalate, and if you aren’t around to hurt, that leaves Sophia.”
Emma’s insides chilled, the wrapper crumpling in her hand.
“He tries, he deals with me.” Gabriel’s scowl was dark enough to blot out the sun. “But if we use the partial key, we risk freeing those Armageddon Infinite Ones.”
His panther familiar shook his black head. “Cracking their cells isn’t the same as releasing them.”
“If they even still exist.” Goodwin neatly slit a packet of ketchup and smoothed its contents onto an empty paper wrap. “You saw the number of generations in Emma’s tree. Hundreds of years have gone by. The Infinite Ones are probably dead now.”
“Probably isn’t definitely.” Gabriel stabbed a fry in Goodwin’s ketchup then snapped it off with a chomp of white teeth. “Even centuries isn’t reassuring with ‘Infinite’ in the name.”
“Infinite doesn’t mean immortal,” Pan said.
“The journal said they were.”
“The journal said near immortal. Yes, it’s a risk, but it’s a calculated risk, with most of the downside based on Jayden’s word. Dunno about you, but I don’t entirely trust him.”
“Noah says he’s trustworthy enough.” But Gabriel’s eyes shifted away, as if he privately agreed with Pan.
“Let’s vote,” Pan said. “Use the key. Free Sophia.”
“Free her,” Goodwin said.
Emma set her second burger down with jittery hands. Use the key. Rescue Sophia from prison. But also destroy Emma’s last physical link with her father—and kill her mating bond.
She picked up the journal from where it lay tucked up against her thigh. Tried to imagine it, her father’s beautiful art, gone. That would be sad.
But when she imagined her mating bond to Gabriel, snapped, it drove the breath from her lungs. Pain hit her, unbearable in its intensity.
“Emma?” Goodwin said. “What say you?”
“Y-you’re sure that’s the only way to get Sophia out?” Her nose prickled and she blinked stinging eyes between the three men.
The familiars were frowning at her, but Gabriel’s gaze was sharp. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just that w-we’ll lose valuable information.” She clutched the journal tighter. “I want to be sure we’ve thought this through.”
“She has a point,” Pan said, and the tightness in her chest eased.
Until the auburn-haired familiar said, “There’s a photocopier in the office. I saw it while I was investigating the area.”
“That solves that then,” Pan said. “We’ll copy the journal before we go back. But we can’t wait any longer, not with Sophia in the Enforcer’s clutches. No, the time is now. Gabriel, how do you vote?”
Emma’s heart thudded in her chest. The copier would save an echo of her father, not the best solution, but with Sophia’s freedom in the balance, she’d have said yes in a heartbeat.
But she’d lose Gabriel. And if Bruiser took her, she’d lose her true mate forever. It’d be as if he’d died.
Her chest hollowed.
Gabriel wouldn’t understand her hesitation, though. Tears stung her eyes as she readied her voice to say aye.
“Vote?” Gabriel surged to his feet. “That,” he jabbed a finger at her book clutched tightly against her chest, “is Emma’s journal, not a damned vote. It’s not up to us, it’s up to her. And if she’s not ready, the answer is no.”
Her chest freed. She blinked damp eyes at him, his face more beautiful than ever in a halo of gleaming teary light.
“She’d better be ready soon.” Pan stood, crumpling his garbage and stuffing it in a bag. “If we can’t do something about our highest priority, what can we do about any of them? I’m going to my room. You two think long and hard about exactly how you’re acting—and not acting.” He stalked out, slamming the door behind him.
“I think perhaps he’s right.” Goodwin also rose. “At least in that you two have much to discuss.”
Gabriel stood with his flared back to her, watching the door shut softly behind the auburn-haired man.
Leaving her alone with Gabriel.
* * *
Bruiser Bearstrangler woke with a headache and a hard-on.
Not a rare combination for him.
But usually he surfaced in the comfortable squalor of his favorite whorehouse or his own harem. This fussy unfamiliar room belonged to an older female, though still fertile by her smell. His dick nodded approval.
A soft scratch, stool legs moving beside him, lifted his eyelids.
The woman sat next to where he lay on the couch, wringing out a washcloth. She smiled at him as she laid the cool cloth on his forehead. Wolves didn’t age like humans. Older, yes, but still a looker.
For a moment he couldn’t remember the bitch’s name. Shalla, that was it. That nerd-boy he-witch must’ve hit him harder than he thought.
Choler rose inside him, and his hard-on died. Nerd boy. In Michigan, he’d stolen Bruiser’s property in front of his own fucking pack. The boy witch was going to pay dearly. And Emma’d was going where she belonged—at the end of Bruiser’s very short leash.
The bitch mother had already agreed to help him.
He edged himself up onto his elbows. “Where’s my property?”
The female blinked. “You mean your mate? You said you weren’t going to hurt her.”
The mother looked concerned, laughable, considering how fast she’d given her daughter up.
“It’s fine, Mother.” Behind Shalla lay her son, draped over a chair, nose deep in a slick sex magazine. How much of the she-wolf’s willingness was the wolf-boy yanking her strings, Bruiser didn’t know and didn’t care.
All he cared about was that when he’d arrived in Matinsfield, the she-bitch had used her maternal instinct, and nose, to follow Emma’s trail. Half the town later, they’d caught his property at the pet store, though the mother had hid behind his truck. Wuss-bitch.
Now she twisted her necklace. “He promised he wouldn’t hurt Emma.”
“I didn’t hurt her.” Bruiser graced the woman with a taste of his sexy smile. She only stared, rankling him. “Yeah, I smashed the door a little, but just to show that ass of a he-witch I was serious.”
“I don’t know—”
“Mother.” The boy set aside his magazine to rub something purple on his wrist. “I said it’s okay.”
“I-it’s…okay.” The female’s nervous twisting of her necklace turned to petting. “Emma would get status as an alpha’s mate.”
Well, well. I spy with my little eye a magical control thingamajig. Bruiser made a mental note to seize that prize after he no longer needed the Singers’ cooperation. “Mate. Right.” Harem-mate, with access to her iota power, if he worked the right ceremony. “Problem is, s
he ain’t going to be anybody’s mate if I can’t get her away from the he-witch.”
“And whose fault is that?” the boy dared to sneer. “If you’d accepted my offer when I called you this morning, I’d have brought her to you, done deal. Now…” A crafty light entered the boy’s eye. “Now, I can still arrange it. I can get her alone—for a price.”
In one swift move, Bruiser rolled off the couch and yanked the boy from the chair, drawing the kid snout to snout. “You backing out on our deal?”
“No.” The boy’s lips curled. “But extra work gets extra money.”
“You little fucker.” Bruiser shook him until the mother gasped and the boy’s lanky hair quaked, but Edge’s crafty smile stayed fixed. The kid had backbone. Bruiser’s grip relaxed. “All right, I’m listening.” He eased the boy to the floor. “What’s your price?”
Edge named it.
Knives jagged in Bruiser’s head. Not even berserker strength was worth that kind of cash.
Then the boy added, “Or you can wait for that Enforcer to seize her. He wants her too.”
“You double-crossing cheat.” Bruiser’s skin prickled, fur sprouting all over, his words more growl than voice. “You’re working with the Council lackey too?”
“Not about Emma!” The boy raised both hands as if warding off a blow, smile finally wiped away. “Look, the Enforcer was here this morning, after I called you. About another matter. We didn’t know he wanted Emma, and well, my mother might have mentioned that your property had been by for a visit.”
Shalla frowned. “But he didn’t believe it. Why wouldn’t he believe Emma was here?”
“Look, alpha,” Edge said. “Bottom line, if you want Emma alone, I’m your wolf. Do we have a deal?”
Bruiser snarled. But money was easy to promise. Neither mother nor brother could take the bitch back once she was tied to him. “Yeah. Deal. But if you’re lying to me—”
“I’m not. I’ll get her, and then she’s yours. Do with her what you want.”
“Mating,” Shalla whispered. “Status, food, shelter.” Her gaze wavered, finally landing on Bruiser. “But her eyes are emerald.”
“Green contacts,” he sneered.
“What if they’re not? What if she’s already mated?”
Bruiser smiled. “Leave that to me.”
* * *
Emma rose and shyly touched Gabriel’s tense shoulder. “I want to free your sister, I do. I’d use the key in a heartbeat, even though it’ll destroy the journal.” And my mating bond. “But if there’s even a possibility of another way—”
“Don’t.” He turned to her and stared deep into her eyes.
Cold stung her. Sure, he’d stood up for her in front of the familiars. But now, in private, he’d say what he had to say—that, for his sister’s sake, for her husband Noah’s sake, for the sake of their unborn pups, Emma must give up the journal.
Must give up her mate.
“Yes,” she began. A hot thread of wet trickled down her cheek. “Yes, all right.”
Goodbye, my mate.
Chapter Twenty-Two
But Gabriel shook his head. “No.”
“No?” Emma stood there, blinking at him. No, what? No, we’re not mates? No, there’s no other way? Or no, don’t give up your journal?
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to explain. Not to me, not to them. Whatever your reasons are for hesitating, they’re good, because you’re good.”
Surprise spiked her.
He took her free hand in both of his. “Look, I get it. Your father’s journal connects you to the time in your life when you were happy and loved.” All the love and compassion in the world warmed his gaze. “A small piece of color from before the world became all gray duty. Makes you able to go on living in the now.”
Tears filled her eyes, until he swam in her sight. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. But Gabriel…that isn’t the only time in my life I was happy. Loved.”
I’m happy with you.
She searched his face. “Do you remember, in your workout dimension, when I asked you that question?”
Are you mated to me?
He’d shaken his head, and her heart wept. “But sweetheart, I do have feelings for you. Which is a big problem.”
If simple feelings were a big problem, what about her berserker?
“I remember.” His shoulders rose defensively, as if armoring himself for a hit. And maybe, if he hadn’t meant them, together as she did, this would be the biggest sucker punch of all.
But it had to be asked.
“If we use the key, it will reset my mating to you.” Her breath hitched on the words. “Mate death.”
“Don’t worry.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe from Bruiser.”
The sweetest words to ever stab her in the heart. He’d mate with her again—as duty.
Once, she’d have taken that, taken what she could get with him.
No longer good enough. She wanted, needed, more.
It was either them, together, or nothing.
“Don’t think I’m not grateful. But Gabriel, for yourself. Would you want to?”
He didn’t answer, but his fingers loosened in hers. The longer she went on, the thinner the air, until breathing hurt her lungs. When it came down to it, she could barely finish it.
“Especially now…now that you’ve seen my iota talent?”
Do you love me? Could you love me?
Despite the berserker?
He winced. His hands slid from her fingers.
She could hear his answer too clearly.
I have feelings for you, but the berserker, well… I don’t want the beast in my life.
She couldn’t breathe. When had he come to mean this much to her, that even the thought of his rejection could hurt her so much? When she’d mated him? Or long before that?
“Emma, you know I have feelings for you, but…” He shrugged and looked away.
Beast.
Her heart broke. Her gaze dropped; she couldn’t watch him say the words that would crush her. A dark stain blotched the thin carpet. Grease, blood? Another woman’s heart, crushed in this very room, pooling at her feet?
Her courage deserted her. She blurted, “But w-we’re still friends, right?” Blinking against her suffocating heart, she dared glance at his face. “R-right? Despite the berserker? Aren’t we…can’t we still be friends?”
He frowned, and she thought she’d die. His eyes met hers, and they were such a dark, serious blue-green. “But darling Emma.” He reached out and clasped her to him, enveloping her in his strong arms.
She was grateful. Now she wouldn’t see his face when he delivered the final blow.
“Emma, I’m hoping we can be so much more.”
Her heart, dying of lack of oxygen, took a sudden, life-giving breath. She clutched his waist because her whole world had tilted precipitously. “What do you mean?”
He caressed her hair, soft, sweet. “Darling, I’m falling for you. I’ve been falling since the moment you set foot in my store.”
Hope was a golden light, oxygen, life.
“But mating… I mean, look at what’s happened to Noah. I don’t want a lifetime of looking over your shoulder for you. Yes, the moment we figure a way to deal with the Witches’ Council—and more importantly, that fucktard Enforcer—we can be together. But until then…”
But until then… She crumpled inside.
Numbly, she counted. It took four words, I’m falling for you, to fill her heart.
Yet it only took one word, But, to throw hope, dead and dry, at her feet.
“Look, I know you’ll probably say ‘I’m fine’.”
I’m not fine.
“But we’ll figure it out. We’ll be together someday—”
“Fuck some day.” And fuck her berserker talent. She reared back to nail him straight in the eye. “Yes. Use my journal.” She waved it at him in emphasis. “Open Sophia’s jail. My mating will be null
and void.” And if Bruiser finds me, I’m toast. “But if this is my very last chance to be together with you, I’m taking what I can get.”
Tossing the journal onto the table, she grabbed his head and brought him in for a kiss, so violently they smacked teeth.
She didn’t care. Last chance? She was going to make it memorable. Hell, she was going to make it ring throughout the ages.
Using her wolf, she dragged him to one of the full-size beds, shoved him down onto his back, and climbed on top to kiss him again.
He resisted. Kept his lips tight, his teeth clamped, trying to keep her spearing tongue out. Did he think this was her berserker driving her? Beast. Her human heart was breaking, but her wolf only drove harder to get in.
“Emma,” he muttered around her thrusts. “Darling, you’re upset. This isn’t right.”
“I don’t care.” She grabbed both his ears. “I don’t care about right and wrong. I want you now.” She planted her mouth on his and power drilled her tongue inside. He tasted of rich, dark magic as he groaned and finally opened to her.
Yes.
Then his hands came to clasp her ribcage as if he meant to try to lift her from him, to stop her.
But Linda’s magic had cupped her breasts in the skimpiest, laciest, push-up-iest bra she’d ever seen. She countered him now by tearing off her T-shirt to expose it. Cleavage and goodness overflowed.
His hands froze—and his gaze on her breasts burst into flames.
She shimmied. The mounds wiggled in purest delight.
A groan came from the pit of his stomach, vibrating her groin. Finally, finally he gave in. He grabbed her breasts with both hands and kneaded. “You’re so beautiful.”
She arched into his hands, reveling in the feel of him giving her what she wanted, what she needed, simply because she’d needed badly enough. Only thin lace between, her tight nipples rasped against his palms as if giving them little encouraging licks.
Scrubbing her hips against the hard, rumpled plateau of his abs, she closed her eyes and enjoyed. He cupped her breasts, taking her nipples between thumb and forefinger and tugging gently as if suckling. Need sparked from his milking fingers. Physical yearning but also the need to touch, to lick, to nibble in return.
