The entire room went silent.
“Wolves, we have bigger problems. Something other is surrounding the house.” Vice’s eyes glowed silver, his voice a growl at the outside threat. All of them were suddenly caught between wanting to shift and waiting to assess what was happening.
“Nothing can see this house but us,” Stray said.
“Greenland pack?” Killian offered, standing close to his brother as he spoke.
“They’ve come here for me?” Gillian asked.
Jinx’s Brother Wolf listened to the growls that seemed to shake the walls with his heart in his throat. Because he’d heard those sounds before and they were most definitely not wolves. “Don’t go out there,” he said. But he had no clue if they’d follow him inside if they thought it necessary.
Like Gillian, they were attempting to protect him.
“Do you know who’s there, Jinx?” Rifter asked, his rage barely concealed, and yeah, Jinx couldn’t blame him.
Jinx glanced at Rogue, who was standing in the corner, pale as anything. The markings on his skull looked brighter and Jinx said, “Ghosts,” and headed toward the living room. Only Rogue knew it was a partial lie. There were always ghosts. What waited for him outside was far worse.
Everyone followed, including Gillian, who said, “Jinx, no,” and grabbed him. He shook her off as gently as he could and jumped out the window, shifting as he went. He hoped these monsters could recognize the wolf form, because otherwise, he might just end up puppy chow.
Jez was there, trying to calm the dogs down. Since they’d been told not to eat him, they hadn’t, but they weren’t paying him much attention either. His fangs were out and he didn’t look happy.
“I followed them here,” Jez told him.
The incessant growling quelled when Brother walked around them. Jinx shifted so he could talk to them, telling them in a low voice that, “I’m fine. Leave this place and do no harm to it or any wolves within.”
The hellhounds bowed their heads. Some whined. Obviously, they didn’t like being told not to kill things, since that was part of their job description. He didn’t see the black smoke, so he added, “Keep the smoke away from this house. From everyone—now.”
Reluctantly, they went, but one of them turned to look at Jinx with a gaze he found chilling.
He’s thinking of rebelling, Brother told him. And Jinx wished he knew of a way to kill a hellhound, even if it was just to make a point to the others. Instead, he returned the stare until the creature turned its massive head forward and began to gallop away, the others following.
“Gillian’s coming,” Jez told him. “She’s getting good at escaping.”
“Don’t go far, Jez. I’m going to let her run a bit.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“Nothing I’ve done tonight can be considered wise at all. I’m fucked. But she shouldn’t suffer because I don’t know which way to turn,” he said honestly. Jez looked pained but he disappeared into the trees as Gillian came up on him. “How did you get away this time?”
“They were busy looking out the window you jumped from. I went into another room and went out the door.” She looked pleased with herself and he couldn’t help but smile. Obviously, she hadn’t seen the hellhounds but she looked around now, rubbing her arms against the evil, like the last time.
“It smells funny out here,” she said.
It was the sulfur. The hounds carried it with them. “Everything’s clear now.”
She looked like she wanted to say something else about that, but asked instead, “What was all that about back at the house with Rifter?”
“You already know enough to make your head spin.” He looked around for the hounds, covered a few footprints as he walked along. Hopefully, once they saw him safe, they’d back off.
“I’m not spinning. I’m confused. Rifter looked like he was going to hurt you.”
“He was.” And Jinx would’ve hurt him right back and things would’ve escalated, gotten uglier than they already were. He knew Rogue would try to smooth things over, but ultimately he’d be forced to choose—admit what he knew or else leave the Dire house.
“Jinx, you know all my secrets,” she persisted.
“Can’t we just enjoy being out here?” Because as long as they were alone—guarded by the hellhounds, they might as well take advantage of it. “You’ve been begging to go outside and now we’re here.”
“And here I thought I was the expert in avoidance,” she murmured, although she began to strip.
He stopped her. “As much as I want to see you naked . . .”
“It’s safer if I’m clothed, right?”
“You’re more camouflaged this way.” He indicated the head-to-toe black she wore.
“I’ve spent days in the woods naked and avoiding people. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”
He had no choice, unless he wanted to try to forcibly keep her clothes on. And once he saw her bare breasts, he was decidedly on team naked. Camouflage was overrated. He had hellhounds.
He stood there for a long moment to admire her. She was stunning—he wanted to take her, claim her, but the mating rule of three times rang in his head. Three times and he’d be laying claim to her for life. He’d have to explain that and he was tired of explaining. Just wanted action and plenty of it.
“Go run,” he told her.
“Are you going to try to catch me?” she called over her shoulder, laughing.
“I’ll do better than that,” he murmured, stripping and shifting, Brother Wolf passing her in a blur.
Chapter 17
The thrill of being in her element made her tingle. The cool air hit her skin, and she went up on the balls of her feet for a long second, then propelled forward with a small grunt as she ran along the small, twisted footpath before veering off it into the woods.
She’d never gotten lost before, never really thought about why but obviously being wolf gave her some kind of internal GPS system that kept her on track.
The air washed over her skin, her face stretched in a smile and she might’ve been laughing out loud with the joy of it all. Her feet stung a little from the rough branches and brambles she ran over, but it didn’t matter. That would heal.
She heard Jinx behind her, felt his breath on her back . . . and that’s when she realized it was Jinx’s wolf following her and she knew it before she turned around. Did so slowly and saw the extra-large, gorgeous wolf waiting patiently, head cocked as if to say, “Problem?”
She swallowed, girding herself before stepping forward and reaching out to touch him, sinking her hands in the fur around his neck, pressing her cheek to the top of his head. A soft whimper greeted her. The wolf was so warm with wise eyes and huge paws. Strong, sleek.
“This is what I’ll be,” she whispered and the wolf nodded, because he understood. “Can I run with you?”
He opened his mouth, threw back his head and he howled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine, made her hot and wet with need. And then, with what she swore was a smile, he ran, leaving her to catch up.
She held pace with him, her thigh muscles burning, her body screaming as she wove through the trees, ducking so the low branches wouldn’t touch her.
She didn’t know how long they ran, but when Jinx stopped by a lake, he bent down to drink. She waded in past him, went in waist deep and then dove under, coming up to stare at the sliver of moon that hung in the sky.
There was no beating the real thing, she thought as she floated on her back.
She heard the splash, assumed the wolf was joining her. But Jinx’s face popped up in front of her and she realized she’d missed the shift. She’d ask him to do it later, but for now, she wanted something more.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Very. Thank you,” she told him, grabbed for him, surprised at her own strength. “I want to kiss you.”
His mouth parted. “Go ahead. I won’t bite. Much.”
“I might,” she told h
im before she did so, bit his lower lip in a light nip that made him growl with a pleasure that zinged through her entire body.
She was alive, more now than she had been when running. This was what she’d been waiting for. Under the water, her legs wrapped around his waist, urging him inside of her.
Instead he pulled her back, turned her so she faced away from him and used his fingers between her legs, stroking her to completion. The combination of the heat between her thighs and the cold of the water made for an intense orgasm that came on more suddenly than she’d expected, caused her cry to echo through the woods.
She leaned back against him, her body as liquid as the lake around her. He floated with her in this serene setting, so at odds with what had happened back at the house.
“If we could stay like this . . . forget everything else,” she murmured.
Jinx wished the same damned thing, because here, in this water, with her hands on his shoulders, her body close, there was peace.
But they had so much to conquer still. He figured Rifter and the others were holding meetings back at the house trying to figure out the Gillian and Jinx situations. And soon enough, he’d have to answer to everyone.
For right now, he could just keep Gillian close and pretend nothing else mattered.
* * *
Rogue saw Jinx’s blood on the broken glass that was once a picture window. The growling they’d heard outside had retreated momentarily, but he knew what made the sounds weren’t gone. Not by a long shot.
They all watched out the window until Gwen mentioned Gillian and then they all moved away to find her.
She’d gone out the door, though. Rogue had listened for her, knowing she and Jinx were impossibly close. Just the way she’d stood up to Rifter told him that.
He wanted to tell them they shouldn’t go out there, but the questions that would invite were more than he was willing to say.
Trouble, trouble, all around . . .
“We need to talk.”
“Not now, Vice.” Rogue refused to look at the wolf, but knew Vice wasn’t letting this go. At least Vice was able to restrain himself from not doing this when Jinx was there or in front of anyone else, but no way was this discussion going to remain between the two of them.
Rifter was lurking—he believed Rogue knew what was going on with Jinx. And Rogue was torn between his brotherly loyalties and loyalty to his king.
Maybe outing what was happening with Jinx was the only way to get him help.
And maybe it would make him angrier, and the situation more impossible.
Because if Jinx got angry, the monsters who suddenly saw him as the once and future king would go after the Dires and anyone else who got in Jinx’s way. It was a delicate balancing act and Jinx had taken only a few steps on the tightrope, not nearly enough to know if it would hold his weight for any considerable length of time.
“Now.” Vice’s big hand on Rogue’s shoulder turned him around and Rogue bared his teeth as a growl escaped his throat, louder than intended. The tattoos on his skull and face throbbed as though activated by his anger and that scared him in its unexpectedness. The nightmares he could deal with. Unintentional fallout from being marked by hell was in the oh shit box.
“What do you want from me, Vice?”
“What the fuck is wrong with your brother? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vice demanded, not giving a shit if hell itself was on his heels. Rogue should’ve expected this—Vice had no filter, no worries about consequences when he was in the moment. It was the wolf’s nature and Rogue should’ve considered getting the hell out of Dodge the second he looked out the window and saw a hellhound looking back at him.
It cocked its head and looked confused. Sniffed the air and Rogue suddenly understood. They were protecting Jinx since he freed them from purgatory. And by extension, Rogue, since he was part of Jinx.
“Be nice to me or they’ll eat you,” he told Vice.
“You’re serious?” Vice asked, his hands in his pockets, his tone non-threatening.
“They’re Jinx’s protection,” he said.
“Jinx needs protection from us?” Vice looked astonished.
“No. It’s a long story, Vice. And none of you should follow Jinx out there.”
“Obviously, I’m going to need the story,” Vice said and then pointed to Rifter, who was listening by the door. Rogue had been so focused on the hellhounds that he hadn’t heard the other wolf come up behind him.
“I can’t, Rifter.”
“It’s not disloyalty to Jinx—it’s necessity, to help him,” Rifter told him.
“Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me choose.”
“There is no choice in this. There is only goddamned obey.” Rifter’s voice rose to shake-the-house levels. Vice trembled as his wolf struggled to stay contained. Rogue’s glyphs pulsed with pain and he heard Gwen and Kate talking, didn’t want either of them to feel Rifter’s wrath because of him.
But Rifter was circling him and Rogue felt cornered. Something in him was ready to snap, to go over the edge uncontrollably and what if he couldn’t pull himself back?
Jinx had always been able to do that for him. Would if called on again. But bringing his twin here in the first place was a mistake, even if it wasn’t his.
The growling was louder and more inhuman than any wolf he’d ever heard. It sent shivers down the base of his spine, called to him in a way it shouldn’t have.
His wolf wanted to join them and that was wrong on so many levels.
“What the fuck, Rogue?” Vice asked. He was circling the room staring out the window and seeing nothing, but sensing the evil surrounding them.
Vice stopped asking nicely and shook Rogue by the shoulders, which enraged the hellhounds. It was as if they were ready to jump through the windows, and Vice, who wasn’t scared of anything or anybody, didn’t stop pressing Rogue.
Just as suddenly, they were gone. Rogue heard them running, the beats of their paws inside his head, their massive jaws gnashing. He could only imagine what would have drawn them away from their threats outside the Dire house.
Only one thing. “Jinx is in trouble,” he told them, before he shifted and went out the already broken window, following Jinx’s trail of glass and blood.
Chapter 18
Letting the air dry them, Jinx and Gillian walked together through the dark woods, arms around each other. The bruising pattern on her back was looking more glyph-like and she said it was tender to the touch, so he made sure his arm didn’t press on it.
Halfway back to the house, his scenting diverted him. He smelled wereblood, tasted the violence like a bitter wine and he motioned to Gillian to follow him.
Quietly, they wove through a makeshift path that wasn’t here a week earlier. Trappers came here and did things like this all the time—typically, the twins found them and took care of it, re-camouflaging everything and restoring it to its original state. But they’d been caught up with Liam’s war lately.
At the end of the path, he stopped, scanned the area and saw the bodies, hurriedly buried beneath some old leaves. He raced over to them, Gillian on his heels.
Dead Weres. Two of them, younger than Cyd and Cain were when they came to Jinx. They’d been through their first shift, but they hadn’t been shifted during the attack. They hadn’t even been given the chance, probably drugged to make the shift impossible, and wrapped in silver chains to stop it from happening, judging by the burns around their necks and wrists.
He bent to look more closely at the other injuries, saw electrical burns and deep cuts made from a hunting knife. And the way they were tied made it easy for Jinx to assume they’d been raped. Tortured. Held for who knew how long. For what? For being what they were born to be. He knelt next to the bodies, touched their foreheads. They were no doubt coming to find Liam, as they had directions to the meeting place and a note from their packmaster who’d sent them along as a show of faith for the new king.
Brother’s impeccable hearing t
old him that whoever dumped these bodies was close enough to have heard Jinx and Gillian. They were lying in wait, and Jinx’s hackles—and the violence held tight within him—rose.
The near miss with Rifter, the feelings Gillian brought out in him, the troubles with Rogue and purgatory, all of it conspired to make Jinx goddamned angrier than he’d been in centuries. The feeling grew quickly until it rattled everything inside of him.
More than anything, Gillian brought out his most primal side, the warrior who would fight for what was his. And he was more sure that Gillian was meant to be his than anything he’d ever known.
“Jinx, what happened to them?” Gillian was looking for a pulse on their necks until he stopped her with a shake of his head. “Were they . . . ?”
“Wolves. Weres, not Dires. They were tortured.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re wolves.” He wanted to sugarcoat it for her, but he couldn’t. Wouldn’t be fair to her anyway. She had to know what kind of world she was coming out in. There was no changing it—she had to know things to keep her safe.
“What kind of people do this?”
“Weretrappers. They’re angry at all of wolfkind because we killed their leaders and threatened their entire organization.” The Dires had expected blowback, but seeing innocent Weres bear the brunt of it turned Jinx’s stomach.
She looked around like she felt the trappers were still near them. “They’re still close, aren’t they?”
“They heard us, yes.” Their voices were low, their heads close. “We’re going to need to try to get back to the mansion.”
“We should stop them. Fight them.”
“You’re not ready for that. I’ll go after them after you’re safe,” he promised.
Shots rang over their heads. He shoved Gillian in front of him and he ran, because he would shield her with his body. And as much as he wanted to stop, rake his claws over the men who’d hurt the young Weres, they couldn’t stop—he couldn’t afford to have Gillian taken. But they were closing in on all sides and he pushed Gillian to climb the big oak, handed her a gun and told her to shoot anyone who came close who wasn’t a wolf.
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