Dire Desires ewc-3

by Stephanie Tyler

  “Vice, downstairs, now,” Rifter’s voice floated through the intercom.

  Ah shit. He had that king thing going on in his voice.

  “Rogue, if you fucked me on this . . .” he muttered, sure Rifter had discovered that secret.

  “Yeah, fuck me, baby,” the Were moaned as she tugged at him.

  “No, not fuck—ah, forget it.” He slid out of the bed and the Weres pouted for a moment before they started going at it with each other. He shrugged it off—no law against them having fun.

  Cyd was at the door, smirking. “Rifter sent me up to get you.”

  “Just make sure you get them out of here. And don’t join in. You need your strength for later.”

  “No carbs, no sex, no fun,” Cyd muttered as Vice took the stairs down three at a time. Cyd threw jeans down after him and Vice caught them but didn’t put them on. Because what the hell—if he had to shift, which was usually when Rifter used his king tone, why ruin a perfectly good pair of jeans.

  He met Rifter at the landing before the basement. Rifter didn’t comment on the lack of clothes this time, the way he’d been doing lately because of Gwen, who wasn’t always entirely comfortable with the big, naked males surrounding her. Mainly because Rifter growled every time it happened.

  He followed Rifter down to the basement, Harm behind him. They all pulled up short when they entered the room to find Gwen standing over a . . .

  Dire.

  “She’s a fucking Dire,” Vice breathed. He didn’t know if he should move forward or not. Killian and Stray were already in the room but they still had that wide-eyed look that Vice was sure he wore.

  “Yes. And she has no idea she’s a wolf. She was locked up in a psychiatric facility when she started exhibiting symptoms,” Gwen said and Vice felt the anger rise in him.

  “Immortal?” Rifter asked, unable to hide the shock from his voice.

  “I don’t know—I wasn’t planning on trying to kill her,” Gwen said wryly and Rifter rolled his eyes and the mood relaxed a little. “There’s no other test, you know.”

  “She’s not,” Killian said. “No one from the Greenland pack but Stray and me are immortal. But she’d live a long time if she gets through this shift.”

  Rifter studied her more clinically. “She’s thin. Hasn’t been trained well in the warrior ways, but she’s got muscle. She looks like she’s been running regularly.”

  “She has been. She escapes once a month and doesn’t go back to the hospital for days. Says she’s running around the woods,” Stray added.

  No Dires or Weres ran in the woods behind the institution—it was considered bad form and they didn’t want the patients to see anything they could be labeled as more crazy for seeing. So she’d been safe running there, getting in the exercise her body needed, her mind preparing.

  But Gillian had no idea what she was up against.

  Gwen looked concerned, because she knew, having recently wrestled with it. The physical part would be easier on Gillian but the wolf didn’t know she was a wolf.

  “Who brought her here?” Rifter asked.

  “Jinx,” she said without missing a beat and Vice had to give her credit. “He did the right thing. He had no idea he was being called on to rescue a Dire.”

  Rifter didn’t say anything further, moved toward the table to get a closer look. “He should’ve checked with me.”

  “I know. But he said she was in medical trouble—and I reacted.” Gwen remained calm to Rifter’s growly alphaness. The king was right and Gwen was just beginning to understand the rules of living with a king alpha Dire. “Jinx had to go hunting. He said he would call later.”

  Rifter grunted a little. He was trying to hold back his anger—more directed at Jinx than at Gwen. The rogue wolf had gotten himself kicked out of the Dire mansion weeks back and had done little to atone for his asshole behavior. Vice knew his friend was hiding something. When he figured out what, he’d be all over him.

  “I think none of you should be here when she wakes up. She’s quite . . . attached to Jinx.” Gwen seemed hesitant to bring up that last bit of information but it wasn’t news to Vice. He’d felt the tingle of the bond from the second he’d stepped into the room. He just hadn’t been sure who it was directed toward.

  But Rifter’s gaze went sharply to Gwen and then to Gillian. “She and Jinx bonded? Because you know Dires don’t bond.”

  “We’re not vampires,” Vice added. “Maybe he’s been hanging around that deadhead too long.”

  “I don’t think you can catch something like that,” Stray told him.

  “How do you know that? Just because it’s not on your precious Internet. Put it out on Twitter and someone will know,” Vice continued, sliding out of the way before Rifter was able to clock him on the back of the head.

  Gwen had been waiting patiently through their dialogue. “I can’t explain it. I know our bonds happened like this, but humans have love at first sight, so why can’t Dires be susceptible to it?”

  “Fated at first sight,” Vice said. “Hell, I didn’t think Jinx had it in him.”

  “Maybe it’s lust,” Killian threw in. “Because she’s beautiful.”

  There was no arguing with that. She was built like the Dire women of old—tall and slim, her bearing regal. But there was a wideness to her shoulders, a rise to her cheekbones that foretold that she might be the fiercest fighter they had.

  “This is gonna be trouble,” Vice muttered as a stomp of boots that made no attempt at stealth clattered down the stairs. “And speaking of . . .”

  The wolves turned, expecting Cyd or maybe Liam, but Vice knew exactly who it was.

  Rogue turned the corner, wearing all black leather, head shaved looking far more badass than a man who’d recently been in a coma had a right to be.

  Hell still rode in his eyes, and Vice wondered if he was the only one who could see that.

  Rifter moved first, embracing Rogue. The wolf let him. The men had been imprisoned together—Rifter had saved him from the trappers, but couldn’t save him from Seb.

  “You look good, brother,” Stray said, clapping him on the back. Rogue shook Kill’s hand and thanked him for helping to save him. And then Kate came in from the garage—she’d been out at the cabin that had been in her family for generations with Cain—and she dropped the packages she held and ran for the wolf.

  He caught her and the wolves heard her whispering, “So glad you’re okay.”

  “Kate.” Rogue’s voice was hoarse, the only thing that belied emotion and the young witch hugged him without a second thought. “Don’t get growly, Stray—it’s okay.”

  Stray flushed but he didn’t look worried. Being possessive was natural and nothing any of the Dires worried about. But Kate did move away quickly, in deference to her mate and went over and kissed Stray hard.

  Vice knew Rifter was staring at him, but Vice pretended to look anywhere but, because it was damned obvious Vice wasn’t surprised to see Rogue up and about. Instead, he told Rogue, “Nice skull—werechicks will dig it,” and tried to back out of the room when Gwen said softly, “I think Gillian’s waking up.”

  All the wolves stilled and waited.

  The female’s aqua blue eyes were stunning. Vice swallowed hard, because it had been a long time since he’d been in a female Dire’s presence. Rifter moved forward, as did Stray and Killian. Vice hung back with Rogue, told him, “I kept your secret—you owe me.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Vice. I’m not the only one keeping secrets around this place,” Rogue said, stared at him for a long moment and Vice fought the urge not to meet his gaze because suddenly it was like Rogue had these mind-bending—or at least reading—abilities and he didn’t want anyone in his noggin. Especially not now.

  Chapter 6

  Gillian dragged herself up through the water into the light, drew a deep gasping breath and sat up, hearing the familiar rip of the restraints as she did so. Lights danced in front of her eyes and she blinked to clear them, shook h
er head as the now familiar rustling clogged her ears.

  When everything finally settled, she took in the cinder-block walls, the soft lighting, the nonantiseptic smell.

  She remembered Jinx, but she knew instinctively he was no longer here.

  It was only then she realized she was surrounded by giant males. She stilled, letting her eyes wander over all of them, one by one. Warriors, yes, but none of them were her warrior, and she felt the nag of disappointment under the urge to fight.

  She would play possum, the way she always had at the hospital. If they thought she was weak, they would let their guard down, and that’s when she would escape. Here, she would have to strike, to fight.

  She had no idea where these urges came from, but she did know she would fight them all.

  “She ripped those restraints like they were paper,” she heard one of them murmur in a language she shouldn’t have understood. She glanced down at the metal cuffs that were attached to the table.

  “She understands,” another one said.

  “Gillian, I’m Gwen. We’re Jinx’s family, and you’re safe here.” The tall blond woman didn’t seem particularly afraid of her, smiled kindly.

  “You’re a doctor?” she asked and the blonde didn’t seem to know what to say to that.

  “She is,” the tall, dark male said in a gruff voice.

  “Really. The IV is just to get the drugs out of your system.”

  It took Gillian several tense moments to believe her. She ripped the needle out of her arm, even as Gwen explained about drug withdrawal and the like.

  “That’s never happened,” she assured the tall, cool blonde. “I need a weapon.”

  “No, you don’t. These . . . men . . . they’re all part of Jinx’s family too. They just . . . wanted to meet you. But they’ll leave now,” Gwen said and they all did as she asked.

  “You have power over them,” Gillian noted.

  Gwen laughed a little. “Some, I guess.”

  Gwen had pointed to the pile of clothing and Gillian didn’t argue, slipped into the comfortable T-shirt and leggings reluctantly. As always, the clothing chafed her skin.

  She thought about the big man they called Rifter, the one who told Gwen to keep her in the basement. The cinder blocks and lack of windows blocked the moon but she could sense it, and walked around the room as if she could somehow find a way outside.

  She always found a way.

  “I think I like this place,” Gillian murmured in spite of her need to escape, the contrast maddeningly odd, more to herself than to Gwen as she moved around.

  “It’s nice here,” Gwen agreed. “You’re safe—I meant that. No one’s going to drug you.”

  “But I can’t go outside.”

  “For now, it’s better for you to stay here. I promise you’ll understand why soon enough.”

  “Where’s the warrior?”

  “Do you mean . . . Jinx?”

  “Yes.”

  “He had to go to work. I could ask him to come back.”

  Gillian didn’t answer that, instead asked, “Does anyone else know I’m here?”

  “No one from the hospital.”

  “My parents?”

  “We don’t know who they are.”

  “At this point, neither do I,” she murmured. Maybe she’d never really known them. There were always others taking care of her because they traveled a lot. Thinking back, there were always a lot of doctors and tests and she wondered if they’d always known she would need to go into some kind of hospital, if they were testing her early so they’d know.

  But know what? That she liked to run naked through the woods? Other than that, she seemed to be able to function normally in society. She was polite, didn’t eat with her hands, was well read. She’d finished all her schooling, graduating early. And she would’ve moved on to college if she hadn’t been forced into the hospital.

  How much had Jinx told them about her past? How much did he actually know? They’d barely had time to talk before she’d been sedated.

  Rescued. Safe, the rustling told her. It never steered her wrong.

  Her back ached. It had been hurting, as if she’d bruised it, for the past several weeks. She lifted the shirt and turned to look over her shoulder in the mirror at her naked skin, noted that Gwen was watching her too.

  “I must’ve bumped it the last time I”—she was about to say escaped—“exercised.”

  Gwen moved closer and her tone was a little off when she said, “It looks like it’s going to be just fine.”

  “You’re the doctor.” She tugged at the neck of the T-shirt. The clothing was soft, but it still chafed. And Gwen hadn’t seemed bothered by her nudity, but still, she knew walking around the house with all the men wasn’t appropriate.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Actually, starving,” she said. Gwen went out the door and pulled in a table on wheels with a big tray of covered food dishes.

  “That smells great.”

  “Here—sit and get started. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Gillian couldn’t think of anything but food at that moment. At first, it was only that way after they’d sedated her and lately it was that way all the time. There was never enough food, except on the days she ran. Then, it was like her body shut down to everything but the air and the moon.

  It was all delicious—lots of stew meat and potatoes and bread. She sat and ate for what seemed like hours. Finally, when her stomach stopped complaining, she looked around and noted that there didn’t appear to be any cameras in this room, although they could be well hidden. She took a few more bites and couldn’t shake the fact that she was alone.

  They trusted her, just like they made the mistake of doing time and time again at the hospital. Gillian always took full advantage of their mistake and she’d do it here.

  Really, she had to. The moon, the air, Jinx—all called to her as surely as they felt her pain of being held captive.

  Her bare feet padded across the cold floor, but her blood ran hot. Her fingers nestled in the seams of the cinder-block wall, looking for any kind of weakness, a secret passage.

  Nothing.

  She went into the small bathroom and looked up at the vent. It was small, but it had to lead outside. She lifted the cover and smelled earth. But she’d never liked enclosed places, so she was torn.

  Jinx had left her. She’d ask him why when she saw him again.

  She went to the door and found it opened easily. She went to the next door and found herself inside a maze of cars and motorcycles. There was a big window about seven feet up and she climbed onto the roof of a truck and pushed it open and looked down.

  You can do this.

  She balanced in her bare feet on the window’s ledge. Hesitated and then jumped as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Landed solidly on her two feet and broke into a dead run toward the woods, her smile wide. The wind tore through her hair, the T-shirt billowed out around her and she heard her own laughter echo in her ears.

  She was free—and this was no dream.

  * * *

  “Your brother looks good for being a prisoner of hell. The biker look works for him,” Jez said, trying to keep conversation going as Jinx brooded in the passenger’s seat. “A bold choice of tattoos, though. The women are going to love them, I’m betting.”

  “Do you ever shut up?” Jinx growled.

  “Finally. I was beginning to think I’d lost you in your broody bad-boy mood for the night, and we have work to do. Are you ever going to ask what I found back at the psych facility?” Jez asked. “I realize you were busy being all growly over your mate—”

  Jinx wanted to say she’s not my mate but the words wouldn’t come out, dammit. Instead, he managed, “I talked to a ghost who mentioned a monster.”

  “Most of the patients saw it,” Jez confirmed. “Several nurses mentioned that over the past four days, they used a lot more drugs than normal to keep everyone calm. One of them said that, and I quote, ‘It w
as like all the freaks freaked out at once.’”

  “Nice nurse,” Jinx muttered.

  “All the patients I spoke to—”

  “You spoke to patients?”

  “They won’t remember me, wolf,” Jez told him with a sigh. “You sure you want to talk about monsters rather than the fact that your brother woke up and you just found your mate?”

  “You are not my therapist, deadhead. And we’re not supposed to have mates.”

  “Did the Elders tell you that?”

  “Centuries.” Jinx slammed his hands along the dash. “We had no one forever. And now we’re allowed to fall like dominoes?”

  “I didn’t say the PTB made sense. Ever.” Jez took a corner on two wheels. Jinx hadn’t realized how fast they’d been going.

  The vamp was possibly more on edge than Jinx. “What’s wrong, Billy Idol?”

  “Fuck you, wolf.” Jez yanked the car to the side of the road. “I realize you’re all wrapped up in you. But I’m involved in this shit too.”

  “Is this about your brothers?”

  “I don’t like psych wards,” Jez muttered.

  “Why didn’t you say that hours ago?”

  “I didn’t think I’d have that kind of reaction.”

  Jez didn’t elaborate and Jinx figured he’d share when ready. At the moment, they were facing something bigger, because they were back outside the original scene of the crime, as it were. Beyond these iron gates that stood shakily was once the opening to purgatory.

  It was shut now, but would it always be there? Could Jinx be tricked into opening it a second time? Was he somehow purgatory’s bitch?

  “You think the monsters would come back here?” he asked to distract himself. “I think they’d stay far away.”

  “Got to cross it off the list,” Jez said firmly, his stiff-upper-lip composure back. The long leather coat whipped around his thighs as Jinx followed him reluctantly.