by Jaymin Eve
"Fuck!" I snarled, shaking my head. "We were trying to fit in, and the men were curious about my powers."
Braxton didn't say anything, and through our bond he didn’t seem upset or pissed with me. That dragon was hard to read, though. He moved on to the next file, which was video footage of the same incident. From the angle I could tell it was Marcus who had filmed me. There were files upon files—we’d been filmed almost consistently without pause. Ninety percent wouldn’t be a worry, because it was barely obvious what was happening, but there were a few big ones.
Especially once we hit the Syrian footage. This was taken by a drone, from very high above, and the quality was grainy, but there was no missing the absolute destructive terror of my power.
"He set us up," I admitted, ashamed and furious with myself for falling for it. "Justice was in danger and I just reacted. Like I said before, she messes with my head, and when she puts herself in danger, I lose all reasoning. But it's no excuse for my actions."
Braxton turned and clamped his heavy hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, brother. The president orchestrated much of this to ensure he got what he wanted. So now we will play this game … just long enough to figure out how to take this leadership down once and for all."
I met his piercing blue gaze. "He’s going to wish he never messed with supernaturals. I’m going to make sure of it.”
If it was the last thing I ever did.
12
Justice Winter
I was in a weird situation. Traveling between cities—worlds—with no actual place to call home. It wasn’t the first time I’d been “homeless,” but it was the first time that I was okay with it.
Today, I was in the Compass's living room, surrounded by Jessa, Mischa, and Grace, the mates of three of the quads; all strong, beautiful, capable, and in Jessa's case, scary as fuck.
I admired them all and loved counting them as friends. Even if I did wonder if I’d ever feel as comfortable being here as the three of them appeared to.
"I can't fucking believe the president," Jessa snarled, pacing, her eyes going all wolfy as she huffed. "That bastard set us up and I for one hope they vote to just kill him."
Mischa shook her head. "You know they won't. It’s too shortsighted. I bet they'll come up with some sort of plan to turn this around and make him seriously regret trying to blackmail us."
Jessa's eyes bugged out; she looked like she wanted to shoot a fireball at the wall she was glaring at. Thankfully, she was a wolf shifter and couldn't easily blow things up. It had saved a lot of lives—and walls—I was certain.
"How are things with you and Jacob?" Grace asked, changing the subject. It wasn’t necessarily a subject I wanted to talk about, especially since I’d dropped the whole “true mate” bomb on him and had barely gotten a response in return.
To be fair, we hadn’t had a lot of time to hash it out before Tyson showed up, but Jacob’s non-answer felt like an answer all on its own.
"You know," I sighed, "I actually don't know. We fought a lot—don't get me wrong, but he’s different to what I thought … not as cocky or arrogant."
He was actually considerate, caring, and protective in a way that didn’t make me feel smothered. Fucker was under my skin and I stupidly hadn’t seen it coming.
Jessa snorted, turning her attention from the wall to me. "Not arrogant? That doesn't sound like any of my Compasses."
My…
It fucking bothered me the way she so casually said that, like she was some lady with her own personal Compass harem. Neither Grace or Mischa reacted, and I knew I was being ridiculous, latching on to that word. Jessa had been best friends with the guys since they were babies, and she meant it only in that context, since she was happily mated to Braxton.
But … it still bothered me.
"You're right, it is weird,” I said, shaking it off, “but instead of arrogant he was mostly angry…” And kind and sweet and caring.
“Angry?” Jessa asked, her forehead crinkling like she was trying to imagine that.
"Losing control of his fire power a lot. Sending soldiers into walls with a well-placed blast of wind. Shit like that. It was weird because before we were there, Jacob seemed like the cool and calm one of the four.”
Jessa was concerned. I could see it in the tilt of her blue eyes and the pull on her full lips. Perfect white teeth worried at those lips as she stared right into my eyes like she was seeing into my soul.
"That's not like him at all," she murmured.
Grace sat a little straighter. "Tyson was like that when we first started orbiting each other again."
"Max was too," Mischa added.
Jessa looked between both of them. "Are you saying that Justice and Jacob are true mates…?"
All three of them looked at me and I sighed. "Yeah, I've admitted to him that I think we might be true mates. He unbalances me, and has ever since we first met."
"What did Jacob say?" Jessa asked in a rush, and she didn't sound upset about the possibility, which relaxed the stiffness in my shoulders.
"He kinda brushed it aside, all the while implying that it might be best if we never found out."
I tried not to feel hurt about it; the timing had sucked, I was the first to admit it. But fuck, it did hurt.
"I'm going to kill him," Jessa said, exasperated. "He's always been the one I worried about the most, because he internalizes so much and covers it up with jokes. He's a master at it and most don't notice that it’s an act."
She knew him so well. I couldn't deny it. And she had a right to call him hers, in the manner that she meant it.
Pack. Family. Life.
"Jacob basically said that the reason he doesn't want to explore what might be between us, is because I unbalance him too, and he doesn't like it."
Was he right about it being too volatile for us both? I mean, I had survived this long by ensuring I never cared enough to get hurt. It meant I could always walk away.
Jacob was going to make me care. He was going to make it so I could never leave.
Maybe I wasn’t strong enough for that either.
The front door opened, and only Grace and I jumped at the slam of it against the wall. The shifters in the room heard them coming before they were even on the front porch. As soon as the Compasses stepped inside, I felt the cool nature-vibe of Jacob's energy. It was like the scent of freshly cut grass and rain on dry dusty days.
Two of my favorite smells, reminding me of being on the farm with Grams.
Maximus was first into the room, moving straight to Mischa, wrapping his long arms around her and hauling her up into his body. "Hey, baby," he murmured, lips pressing to hers, like it had been weeks since he'd seen her and not an hour.
She melted against him, face all blissed out.
Fuck. I loved them. They were couple goals.
Everyone in this freaking room was.
Except Jacob and me, two messed-up messes scared of losing our hearts.
Speaking of, he crossed straight to me. "Did he send the evidence?" I asked him, surprised by his intense stare. His gaze ran over me, like he was checking everything was in one piece, only relaxing when he saw I was okay.
"Yep, email came through,” he said with a resigned rumble. “He has even more than he said, enough to fuck us up if it goes to the world media, so we have no choice but to play along for now."
I forced myself not to react as strongly as I felt. "I was really hoping you wouldn't say that."
He stepped closer and my lips tingled. What the hell? Not. Okay.
"Don’t worry about it, we’ll get it handled," Jacob told me, and I jerked my head up so I was staring him dead in the eyes.
"What does that mean?"
Braxton answered this time: "He has requested a service of fifty supernaturals, from all four races. His stipulation is that they can blend in with humans. This group will be his personal hit squad, taking care of everything he needs, and winning battles for him."
Braxton was the leader of all shifters in America, all except one.
"Jessa babe…" he said slowly.
"No!" she pointed her finger right in his face, or as close as she could reach. "Don't Jessa babe me. That won't change my mind. Neither will your tongue, so don't even bother trying that shit again."
Jacob shook his head, looking amused, and I felt a pang again. This family was so fucking amazing. Did they even know—truly know—how lucky they were to have loyalty and love like they did? To be able to question each other and fight and know they'd still have each others’ back tomorrow?
That was as rare as any jewel in the world. And I knew my fair share of priceless jewels.
"What's our other options?" Braxton asked, his arms out as he tried to placate his furious mate.
Jessa shook her head. "We’re supernaturals. We bow down to no one. I say we call his bluff and go to war."
The quads exchanged a glance, and I felt a buzz of energy like they were communicating between each other silently. I knew the four of them could join the same way the jeweled princesses could, and right then I missed Cam and Gretley more than ever.
"Surely war is the last thing you want, Jess?" Maximus asked. "We’ve been fighting for so many years already, one battle after another, and since we have hundreds of years of life left to live … can we try for less war?"
She shook her head. "Sorry, no. We don't stop fighting because it's easy. You four have clearly been leading the supes for too long if you're falling back on that political bullshit."
"What about our kids?" Mischa said softly. "You want them to grow up in a world torn apart by a human-supernatural battle?"
Jessa threw her hands in the air looking like she wanted to scream. "What? Is that worse than them growing up in a world where we’re pawns for humans … doing their fucking bidding?" She shook her head. "I won't let that happen. I don't care who I have to go to war with."
She eyed the Compasses, anger and disappointment written across her face, before she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, the door closing on their back porch as she left the house.
There was a stunned silence in the room for many seconds, not that they seemed stunned that Jessa had lost her shit at them, but more that no one really knew what to say now. This was a shitty, sucktastic situation, and there were no good answers. But I felt the need to say my part.
"I agree with Jessa."
Every fucking eye in the room turned toward me, and the power gathered in this small space was enough to make most legs weak. Not mine though. I was made of tougher stuff than that.
Fake it till you make it. Life motto.
"Explain yourself!" Braxton snapped, and it was clear to see that he wasn’t handling his mate being upset, so I didn’t hold that tone against him.
Jacob on the other hand, was apparently very offended, as he shot Braxton out of the house in a rush of wind and water.
"Don't step foot into this fucking house until you get your shit together," Jacob said, his voice low and brimming with the sort of cold rage that was legitimately terrifying. Fire burned hot, but it also died out without fuel. Cold rage though, it could last forever.
A roar shook the side of the house, and it wasn't a roar of anything good or happy.
It was one pissed-off dragon.
In the same instant, Jacob started to vibrate, his body moving at a super-fast frequency by my side. Just as I turned toward him, someone grabbed me and attempted to wrench me backwards.
I hated being grabbed from behind, super-hated it thanks to the men in my past, so I fought by instinct. I had no enemies in this room, but instincts are beyond reason.
"Justice!" Grace hissed in my ear, and I turned to find it was her hands, and Tyson’s, on me.
Another roar ripped through the living area, and at first I thought Braxton was back inside, but then I saw the swirl of dragon surrounding Jacob.
"Hands off her," someone hissed. It sounded like Mischa, but she usually had a very sweet voice. That tone had been harsh and panicked.
"We need to get her away from Jacob," Grace replied in an equally-panicked tone. "He's about to shift into a dragon in the damn living room!"
People were still moving around me, pulling at my arm, but I'd stopped fighting. My eyes locked on the shimmery green energy that was filling the room—if Jacob shifted right here, he'd destroy the house, and probably kill us all in the process.
My ruby energy kicked to life, sending me right at the half-shifted dragon. I slammed into Jacob, hard, and he caught me.
"You have to stop," I begged, even as I resigned myself to the death that would happen if he followed through on his shift. For some reason, my power decided this was where I should be, and I couldn’t find it in myself to disagree.
"Please, Jake."
Eyes that were more animal than human met mine. His nose and face had started to lengthen, and I saw the beginnings of large jaws with razor-sharp teeth. He released another roar, throwing off heat akin to a raging forest fire.
Most of his body had not shifted yet, leaving him as a hybrid human-dragon, and honestly, it was terrifying, majestic, stunning, and … unbelievable.
“How is this possible?” I murmured.
"It's like Braxton, but more," Grace whispered from nearby.
"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice shakier than I would have liked. I mean, I was being held in the arms—very tightly held, I might add—by a hybrid dragon-human. This was a new experience for me.
"What it means is that I have a very rare power where I can become a hybrid of a dragon and a man," Braxton said, his deep voice emerging from where he stood at the doorway to the back porch. He was spilling shifter energy all over the place. "Jacob appears to have the same ability, only he's taken it a step further."
“Braxton still usually looks mostly human,” Mischa added.
Jacob's chest, which was at least doubled in size, rumbled under me. "I was going to shift."
That deep voice was not human. It was the way I imagined an alligator talking, all raspy and weird. I'd never actually imagined a dragon talking, because until the last few years I didn't even know they were real.
"You can talk in this form?" Braxton asked, stepping closer, curiosity lacing his face and voice. He was watching his brother closely, but not in a predatory way—he was curious.
Jacob nodded. "Yes. Talking is hard. Vocal cords partially changed."
Braxton was nodding again, only a few feet away now. He was a dragon shifter and was far less breakable than me, so it was nice to have him close … in case I needed backup.
"The fact that you can make any human sounds when your head is a fucking dragon … dude." Tyson stepped closer. "That’s super impressive. I'm sure I could do the same, you know, if I wanted to."
"Shut up!" Grace hissed. "You competitive bastard. Now is not the time."
Her voice was sweeter when she spoke to Jacob. "Could you release Justice now?" She was trying to edge closer, but Tyson kept getting in her way.
If there was one thing these Compasses had in common, it was how protective they were over their mates.
Jacob didn't release me. Instead he stormed out of the house, me still in his arms.
"Is he hurting you?" Braxton asked as we moved past.
Jacob picked up the pace, so I shouted my answer: “No. I’m totally fine!” Despite the claws and scales, I was being held gently.
I had no idea if Braxton heard me. By then we were in the forest. When no one followed, I figured they understood what I already knew: Jacob was no th
reat to me.
The further we stepped into the dense trees, the calmer he grew, and the green magic that swirled around us and coated his skin in scales and armor faded, until eventually it was just me and Jacob, standing before a particularly majestic redwood trunk. It was so wide that I could only imagine it was centuries old.
I waited for him to speak, but he seemed beyond words, so I took the lead. "So, how are we doing with the whole 'ignore the possible mate bond' thing?"
No reply.
"I'm going to give us a three out of ten, and that's only because we’re both still breathing and in one piece. It's a charity three points. We don't deserve them."
Slightest twitch of his lips, but that could have just been because he was clenching his teeth so hard his lips were losing blood flow.
"I know my jokes are pretty rusty," I continued, because apparently word vomit was my go-to in tense situations, "but it also might be that you're a tough crowd." I nodded. "Yeah, pretty sure it's on you. I'm fine."
He released a sigh, and there was a lot of emotion in it. "I'm sorry, Ruby."
I swallowed my next words, trying to figure out why my chest fucking hurt. I didn't like my chest hurting. That wasn't good. And when did he decide that I needed a nickname? This was the second time he’d called me that, and … I didn’t hate it.
"You didn't do anything wrong," I told him honestly. "I accept who you are, Jacob. I think it's you who has an issue with this side that’s full of emotion."
He swung toward me, and the movement was fast and jerky. "I have never been like this. Not in all my years, and not in the lifetimes I lived before I rejoined this Earth as a Compass."
What? Wait ... what?
"You remember previous lifetimes?"
He had previous lifetimes? Fuck, we were getting into some deep, philosophical shit here. I didn't even know what my beliefs were, despite the fact that I'd heard rumors of actual supernatural gods being sighted around the place. I preferred to just wait and find out.
