by Alisa Woods
“Thanks,” Jak said. “You’ve been very helpful.” He stepped back, scooped up his fallen dart gun, and pumped the hunter full of darts, just like his partner.
The thing was… Jak believed him. Hecca was too powerful a witch for the hunter to call out for no reason. But it didn’t make sense for Hecca to sell out the pack, much less Arianna. Female wolf hearts were valuable, but nothing like the business Hecca did with Red Wolf on a regular basis. There was something deeper going on here, and Jak had to figure it out… before he tipped off an all-out war.
If the hunter was lying about Hecca being the source of the hit, Jak would be back to claim another chunk of flesh in search of answers. The darts wouldn’t hold them long, but they would at least stay put for a while.
Long enough for him to call on a certain witch.
Jak pulled on his clothes and strolled out of the apartment, leaving the bounty hunters unconscious on the floor like the trash they were.
Jak strode out of the elevator onto the thirty-fifth floor: Morgan Media and Art took up the entire wing with a glass barricade and an imposing reception desk between the public entrance and the company inside. Morgan Media was a successful social media management group, well-known in Seattle for performing near-magical feats of social awareness ad campaigns for their clients. Only a few people knew that Morgan was actually a coven of witches, and their combined magical strength was no small part of Morgan Media’s success. Social media was only one part of their empire—they trafficked in all kinds of dark arts, playing the field far and wide, everything from helping law enforcement identify shifters to helping shifters evade exactly that kind of detection. They were amoral, powerful… and it was precisely Jak’s need for a very dark art that had him venturing deep into the heart of Hecca’s world.
The rail-thin blonde at the receptionist desk was so beautiful, Jak had a hard time tearing his eyes away. He had only seen Hecca a couple of times, but she was supermodel gorgeous as well—it was rumored that all witches used dark arts to enhance their beauty, and the receptionist was no doubt part of the coven. If she had been human, Jak might have tried to charm his way in to meet with Hecca. Instead, he kept his distance, stopping a good half dozen feet away from the desk. The spells she could cast were dangerous enough, but a witch’s touch accessed the very deepest of shifter magic… something that precluded a friendly handshake, in any event.
“I’m here to see Hecca,” Jak said without preamble. He hadn’t called or messaged ahead—the pack’s usual method when contacting the witch for her services—but then he wasn’t exactly here on pack business. If the hunters were telling the truth, and Hecca had behind the hit, then Jak suddenly had unique leverage against a very powerful witch… leverage he planned to use to find a way to break an unbreakable magic bond.
If the hunters were lying, Jak was taking a huge risk… but Hecca could scarcely afford to kill him in her office, not while his pack was expecting his return from the bounty hunters. If he went missing, his pack would come for him… and find Hecca in the process. Jak just hoped his scheme wouldn’t inadvertently set off a war between his pack and Hecca’s coven.
“Ms. Morgan’s not available,” the receptionist said. She lifted her pointed nose and gave him a disgusted look. “She only meets with shifters by appointment.”
He didn’t know what magic she had used to detect him—normally even witches couldn’t detect a shifter without a spell—but maybe he had given himself away by barging in. And by using Hecca’s witch name, instead of her human façade: Ms. Elizabeth Morgan, social media princess.
Jak glowered at the receptionist but didn’t venture any closer. “She’s available for Red Wolf. That’s the definition of a retainer. Or perhaps you’d like to explain that you turned away one of her best clients?”
The woman pursed her glossy-red lips and slowly rose from her seat. She was tall—he’d heard that all the witches were—and her six-inch heels made her even taller than Jak.
“Please wait here.” She gave him a cat-eating-mouse smile then sauntered to the frosted glass door leading to the interior of Morgan Media, taking the jasmine scent of her perfume with her. Jak was tempted to stalk after her, but he didn’t want to give the impression he was here to cause trouble: Red Wolf and Morgan were business partners, and this was just a business call. At least, that’s what he needed the office to think—he was already walking a tightrope, he didn’t need to put the whole coven on alert.
Not if he’d like to come out of this alive.
The receptionist returned with a dark-haired witch Jak didn’t recognize. She was curvy—hips swaying under the clingy red silk of her dress and an ample chest bouncing under fabric that barely restrained it—but that was where the softness ended. Her face was carved from porcelain, all angled lines, high cheeks, and perfectly-pale skin.
She strode up to him, confident in her power-red heels. He almost objected to being handed off to some low-ranking witch, but the way her glittering blue eyes were raking over him gave him pause. They were alive and intelligent and had a small glimmer of… something. Curiosity? Attraction?
He swallowed. He couldn’t afford to have a witch—any witch, even a low-ranking one—be overly interested in him. Not in that way. Usually witches and wolves mixed like gasoline and campfires, but he’d heard of witches who had a taste for shifters and kept them as pets. The shifters—usually males—were kept imprisoned under some kind of love spell. The witches used them for sex toys, and when their captors tired of them, they slowly bled the shifters of their magic-filled blood.
It was a particularly pathetic and disgusting way to die.
“I’m Circe, Hecca’s sister,” the witch said, her gaze still lingering uncomfortably long on Jak’s body.
Sister? Why was Hecca sending her sister out as an advanced scout? Jak didn’t know Hecca even had a sister, although witch families were often primarily female. Male witches were as rare and sought-after as female shifters. Circe had the same waist-length sheet of flowing black hair as Hecca, only with a red streak of tint down one side, instead of Hecca’s purple.
“You’re one of the Red Wolf pack, aren’t you?” she asked, curiosity enlivening her face. “Please… tell me what Morgan Media can do for you today.”
Jak frowned. Circe’s overly friendly tone was completely the opposite of Hecca’s normal arrogance… and it was sending warning signals crawling up his back. But he needed to get through the advanced guard as quickly as possible.
“Can we speak in private?” Jak asked, throwing a frown at the openly curious face of the receptionist watching them.
Circe fluttered her fingers, and the receptionist witch practically levitated out of her chair and scurried from the room in a blur of heels and whispered silk.
“Now that we’re quite alone,” Circe purred, “what can I do for a handsome wolf like yourself?” Her gaze kept dropping to his tailored pants.
Jak swallowed again and hoped he hadn’t made a terrible mistake in coming alone. And without actually telling his pack. “Look, I really need to talk to Hecca—it’s a matter that concerns her. And her alone.”
“Hecca is out of town at the moment.” Circe stepped closer, wafting her spiced clove and sage scent past his nose. “But my sister isn’t the only powerful witch at Morgan. I’m certain I can give you whatever you desire, wolf.”
She reached out with just a single red-nail-tipped finger. Before she could touch his face, he stumbled backward, out of reach. That finger was more dangerous than a loaded gun: a bullet he could recover from.
The witch chuckled. It was a dark sound, and it filled Jak with chills that sent his wolf whining. Something wasn’t adding up here. If Hecca put the hit on him, why wasn’t she in town to take possession of the goods—he and Arianna? Maybe her sister was in on it… although she certainly wasn’t acting like she had expected bounty hunters to show up this morning with his body.
“I have some personal business with Hecca,” Jak said, regaining
his composure but keeping out of arms’ reach. “When will she return?”
Circe sauntered closer, forcing Jak to edge backward until he bumped up against the receptionist desk. Her red-lipsticked smile grew more lecherous. “Hecca will return tomorrow. But what is the nature of your personal business? I have to say, you’ve aroused my curiosity, wolf. And my sister isn’t quite as fond of shifters as I am… I’m sure whatever you want, I’ll be much more inclined to strike a deal with you. You might even enjoy it.”
“I’m not interested in that kind of deal.”
Circe gave an elaborate pout. “You wolves really aren’t any fun outside of bed.”
Jak fought off the chills that were racing up his arms. “I have a message for Hecca: I know about her extra-curricular activities, but I’m willing to strike a deal to keep that knowledge under wraps. If she wants that to happen, she should call me as soon as she returns. Do you think you can deliver that?”
Circe arched her pencil-thin eyebrows. “You’re threatening my sister? You are a bold one. I like that.” She licked her lips, sending more shivers down Jak’s back.
“It’s not a threat,” Jak said carefully. “It’s an opportunity to avoid some… complications that I doubt Hecca, or Morgan Media, would like to deal with.”
Circe’s leering stopped for a moment, and she frowned. But Jak wasn’t saying any more until he could deal with Hecca directly. Before Circe could corner him or grill him any further, he turned and hurried out of the witch’s lair as fast as his legs would take him.
The waiting was killing him.
Jak knew there was no point in pacing, but his legs carried all his agitation, and he couldn’t keep them still. He was wearing a path through his room, from the door, to the window, and back to the bed. In each pass, he scoured Mace’s house with his gaze, looking for a shadow passing by the lit-up windows, but the shades were drawn, and he couldn’t see anything. His wolf snorted and pawed the ground, insisting that Jak go and check on Arianna, but there was no plausible excuse for it. She was back inside Mace’s domain… and Jak didn’t know if Mace would ever let her leave. Add in that Hecca wouldn’t return until morning, giving him no way to explore alternative options for freeing Arianna, and Jak’s wolf was clawing at him from the inside, wanting him to relieve the tension by doing something.
A pounding at Jak’s door almost made him shift with the sudden jolt it sent through him.
He strode over to answer it, heart hammering, but it was only his alpha.
“The boys and I are going out to the club,” Gage said. “Come on, Jak, you could use some blowing-off time. It’s been a helluva day.”
“You are not kidding.” Jak sighed out some of his frustration. But the last thing he could stomach at this point was an anonymous hookup with some random brunette… and his alpha would almost certainly find someone for him. And insist he take a bite. “Look, those hunters are still on my mind. I think I’m going to take another swing by their place, camp out for a while.” Jak had already lied to his alpha once today, telling him the hunters had never showed, but a second lie, face-to-face, still twisted his gut. He would tell Gage the truth eventually… just not until Jak had sorted everything out. And used his temporary leverage with the witches to figure out a plan for getting Arianna away from Mace.
Gage nodded and gave him a small smirk. “All right. I figured you hadn’t given up on that yet.” He pointed a finger at Jak that felt like it speared him with guilt. “Just be careful and call us when you see something. Don’t tackle it alone.”
Jak swallowed. “Got it.” That was pretty clearly a direct order… and Jak was already violating it. It made his stomach turn even harder.
Gage called out to the rest of the wolves on the floor while Jak retreated back inside his room. He hung out by the window, watching for Arianna and listening as the main house emptied out. Then two dark figures approached Mace’s house, and a third emerged from it. Mace and his betas. Jak’s body went on full alert. Apparently Gage’s pack wasn’t the only one going out on a Friday night.
Jak watched as Mace and his betas slipped around the side of the main house, heading toward the pack garage and the fleet of vehicles kept there. Back at Mace’s house, the lights were still on… and Arianna was almost certainly still there.
An idea sprung into his head.
A foolish, stupid, reckless idea.
But he was going to do it anyway.
His wolf yipped and pranced and pawed his anticipation, but Jak forced himself to stay put in his room while the dancing headlights of the pack cars bounced along the long drive that wound through the forest and out of the estate. When he was absolutely certain both Mace and Gage and their respective packs were long gone, Jak jogged down the stairs to the main security office. Mason was on duty.
Perfect.
“Hey man,” Jak said, hanging onto the edge of the door.
Mason was playing his favorite first-person-shooter game on his tablet, barely even watching the bank of cameras and security panels in front of him. Not that he really needed to… it was all automated with infrared and visible spectrum motion detectors, as well as an electrified fence that surrounded the vast Red Wolf compound. Jak knew the security inside and out: he had personally approved the software design when it was installed.
Mason finally looked up. “Hey Jak. What’s up?”
“I’m going to head out for a little while. Take another run at those hunters.”
Mason looked disappointed. “Man, everyone is having more fun than me tonight.”
“I know, guard duty sucks.” Jak nodded in sympathy. “Hey, I’ll call you first if the bounty hunters show, okay?”
“Cool.”
“Listen, why don’t you grab some dinner from the kitchen before I go? I’ll keep an eye on the panel until you get back, then I’ll head out.”
Mason set down his game. “You’re the man, Jak.” He clapped Jak on the shoulder on his way out.
Jak waited until he was out of sight then quickly worked the control panel to disable one section of electric fence and turn off the cameras at the perimeter. If Mason noticed anything when he returned—which was highly unlikely—Jak had disabled the same section that the Sparks pack had tampered with over the summer. It was at least plausible that it could have shorted out on its own. And it would give him just the hole he needed to slip back into the estate unnoticed while ostensibly out catching wolf hunters. It would be easy to come around the back side of Mace’s house without being seen.
By the time Mason returned, Jak was sitting in his chair and playing his game. He handed the tablet over and hurried out the front door. Jak didn’t know how long Mace intended to stay out, but he was taking advantage of every minute.
The relief when Mace left the house was like coming up for air after almost drowning. Arianna stood in the middle of the living room, arms wide, head tipped back, just… breathing. She had already showered off the feel of him, but with Mace stomping around the house and ordering her about, his presence had been seeping into her pores all evening. It wasn’t until Mace left the house that she finally felt the awfulness of the day start to dim.
While Mace was in the house, it had been just too dangerous to allow thoughts of Jak into her mind... but now she practically skipped back to those stolen moments in his car. Arianna closed her eyes and imagined Jak holding her. It wasn’t the memory of the mind-blowing lovemaking that grabbed her first—it was the tender way he held her and told her how brave she had been.
A tapping sound jerked her out of her memories and almost gave her a heart attack.
Had Mace returned already?
But the sound was coming from the kitchen… a place Mace never ventured. Frowning, Arianna crept across the plush white carpet of the living room and peeked inside.
Then her mouth fell open.
At the back door stood Jak.
He was tapping furiously but quietly on the glass window of the door. Her heart leapt into her throat
, and she sprinted across the tile floor. What was he doing here? What if Mace came back? Jak couldn’t come in… Mace would scent him for sure. As Arianna arrived at the door, she hesitated to even open it. Uncertainty fisted tight around her heart: what would Mace do if he found out she let Jak in?
As she waffled, one hand on the door handle, she forced herself to look up, through the glass, at Jak’s face on the other side. His chest was heaving, but his gaze was locked on her face. He blinked then pressed his hand against the window, fingers splayed. She placed her hand over his, the cool glass a reminder of the harsh reality that kept them apart. It pricked her eyes to think Jak had risked coming for her, and yet fear and a quarter inch of glass was keeping her from touching him.
You were incredibly brave, Jak’s voice came back to her. On the other side of the glass, his face pinched in, and it tore through her heart. He was being brave and reckless and crazy in showing up at her back door… the least she could do was open it, if only to tell him he had to leave.
She twisted the knob and pulled the door open.
A smile lit Jak’s face. He braced his hands against the door frame on either side, but didn’t come in. “Arianna.”
God, just hearing her name on his lips made her wolf sit up and hum with pleasure.
“I can’t… I can’t let you in.” Her voice was whispery and apologetic, but already the cool night air was wafting in his scent: woodsy and earthen with a hint of mouth-watering musk. He had been running, so there was a sweet-sour undernote of sweat that made her bite her lip.
Jak’s smile only got brighter. “No, of course not. Which is why you need to come outside with me.”
“I… what?” The haze on her mind, the one that had been clouding it all day since she had returned home, grew thicker. She almost couldn’t understand the words he was saying.
