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United (The Ushers)

Page 2

by Vanessa North


  He knew. He knew, dammit.

  He pulled away, leaving her bereft. She watched as he dragged the back of his hand across his mouth in horror. “I’m sorry, Mo. I should never—ever—have kissed you in anger.”

  “If that’s the only way I can ever have you, I would take it,” she confessed. It broke her to admit it, but she knew the pull of mate to mate.

  His eyes closed, and a spasm of pain crossed his face.

  “You deserve so much better,” he whispered. He ran a gentle hand down the side of her face and grimaced. “I have to go. We can talk, after I get back?”

  She nodded. Of course they could talk. All they ever did was talk.

  Chapter Two

  FIONN DRAGGED HIS HAND through his hair as he ran from Monica’s apartment. Annie, thank Goddess, left him alone as he crossed the campus to the woods. He dropped his jeans and his shirt at the edge of the woods and shifted to his wolf self. Teeth and claws growing sharp, he felt the animal claim him, his hearing and sense of smell growing more acute. His bones lengthened and strengthened, and fur covered his body. As soon as his change was complete, he took off at a run in the woods, letting the animal handle his emotions.

  He and Annie had finally come to terms with the love affair that had nearly destroyed his life twenty years earlier. At first, upon seeing her again, he swore she would be the only mate he’d ever accept. She had rebuffed him—gently at times, and not so gently at others, always refusing his advances. Meanwhile, she had continued to put him in close enough proximity to Monica that the mating instinct would pull at him. It had taken them months to negotiate their “just friends” relationship, but now it was as comfortable as his favorite pair of jeans. Annie was his best friend, his confidant, his confessor. She understood the conflict in his head, if not his heart.

  The more time Fionn spent with Monica, the more he wanted her. He understood now, his biology and his destiny both called him to her. His wolf was riding him hard, urging him to complete the claiming. The kiss, good Goddess, how could he have touched her with so much anger pulsing through him? The broken look on her face afterward made him want to howl, knowing he’d done that to her. He didn’t deserve her. He knew his duty, gathering the wolves and uniting them under a single meta-pack. He felt like a goddamn politician, but ultimately, he was the basest kind of animal. He threw his head back in a howl. The feeling of it ripping through his throat was satisfying. He needed this pain. Most wolves ran for comfort, for companionship, but not Fionn. Fionn ran for the pain of it. For the air burning his lungs. For the muscles tearing in exertion. He leapt over a small stream and felt the landing impact as he crouched on the other side, chest heaving. It was never enough. He pushed harder. He wanted to be exhausted, depleted. He deserved to have every muscle in his body ache.

  “Brother.” He heard Angelo’s voice as the other wolf approached. He smelled Monica on Angelo—sweet, a little spicy, like honey and cinnamon. Snarling, he turned to face him. Fionn felt the flesh on the top of his nose wrinkling as his teeth snapped together. He knew Angelo was sleeping with Monica—he could smell her scent on the other wolf. He hated that it made him jealous and angry. His insecurities and self-loathing drove Monica away, yet his animal side couldn’t help but respond jealously to his mate seeking companionship elsewhere. How could he deny her the simple comforts of her friend when he was denying her the one thing she needed most—her mate?

  “Fionn. Calm down, please. I don’t want to fight you.” Angelo’s voice in his head was calm and placating. Fionn forced the hair on his back to settle. He sat on his haunches and watched as the other wolf shifted back to his human form. Angelo was not a big man, nor was he a big wolf. Yet, for all his lack of size, Angelo was unapologetically wolf. His power was in his intellect. Fionn had felt his mind, and it was as sharp as a razor, clean and powerful. He had an astounding attention to detail and an almost omniscient business sense. His human form was compact and lightly muscled. His tattoos marked him as dangerous, but for a Third, he didn’t have many of them. He preferred to carry his accomplishments internally. Completing his shift, Angelo crossed his arms and looked at Fionn. He didn’t hide his nakedness; he just waited.

  With a huff, Fionn shoved his animal nature down and let his human side emerge again. He towered over the other man, but Angelo never appeared intimidated. If anything, Angelo seemed annoyed.

  “What do you want, Angelo?” He sighed.

  “Please, Fionn, you have to stop tormenting Monica,” Angelo pleaded on behalf of his friend.

  Fionn felt it like a knife in his heart.

  “I don’t want to do anything irreversible.” Fionn spat the words out angrily. “I’ve made so many mistakes. She doesn’t deserve to be saddled with a fuck-up like me.”

  “Is that how you see the mate bond?” Angelo’s face clouded with disbelief. “You really think it’s like that? A weight? A responsibility? Are you fuckin’ loco?”

  “Isn’t everything in our lives?” Fionn scowled. “I’m an Usher. One of the Chosen Ones. I feel my wolves, all of them, everywhere. It’s my responsibility to lead them, to nurture them. I can’t waste time nurturing myself, turning myself into the kind of guy who is fit to lick her boots.” He dragged a hand through his hair, continuing, “Monica, good Goddess man, you know how righteous she is. She is so beautiful and strong and so fucking good and selfless. Every time I see her, I fall apart. She doesn’t need a man who falls apart. She needs someone like you.”

  “I wish that were true.” Angelo smiled ruefully. “She needs you. And you need her—the reason you fall apart when you’re with her is because you need her.” Angelo stepped closer, his voice taking on a taunting note. “Did you know she calls out your name when I make love to her? I wish I could say that I won’t go to her anymore, when she asks for me. She hates herself for it. She feels like she’s cheating on you. She cries afterward. Every time. You deny her the comfort of her mate’s touch—you really are loco if you think the only one you deny is yourself.”

  Fionn’s head shot up, and he growled a warning, the sound ripping from his chest.

  “No, brother. I won’t tell her. She thinks you and Annie are lovers. I won’t disabuse her of that notion. For whatever reason you’re keeping your—” Angelo paused as if searching for the right word “—celibacy a secret, that’s your business, not mine.”

  “I’m leaving. For a month,” Fionn whispered. She cried out his name in Angelo’s arms? The thought sent a fierce satisfaction through his body. He imagined her in his own arms, breathless and needy and crying out for release. Her soft dark hair wrapped around his fingers as he drove them both to completion. Damn if it wasn’t the most appealing thought he’d had in decades.

  “I know. She told me.”

  “Take care of her, Angelo.”

  “I always do. Be safe, Fionn. If something happens to you, it will break her.” Angelo shifted and ran back in the direction he’d come, leaving Fionn alone with his self-loathing. He shifted again and headed toward the spot where he’d left his clothing.

  When he emerged from the woods, Annie was sitting cross-legged on the grass, his clothing in her lap. She looked like she’d walked straight out of the seventies, her black hair flowing to her waist and her bare feet poking out of the wide flares of her jeans. She smiled sweetly at him.

  “Feel any better now?” she asked.

  He shook his head, reaching for his clothes. She handed them over and watched him dress.

  “It’ll take two days to reach Asheville,” he told her. “We can stay with my Mama and Pop halfway.”

  “That’s fine. Do you want to talk about what happened with Monica?”

  Fionn felt the tentative brush of Annie’s mind against his. Everything she did was cat-like. Even when she brushed his mind, it was in the manner of a cat rubbing against a person’s ankles. He opened to her, letting her see inside him.

  “I want her,” he admitted. “I kissed her. I was so angry, and she tasted so sweet. I
could hardly keep my teeth off her. I’m an animal, Annie.”

  “So is she, dear one. You shouldn’t keep your teeth off her. She needs your bite.” Annie’s voice in his head was practically a purr. “You won’t be able to accomplish your task without her. You need her.”

  “I don’t deserve her. She needs someone like Angelo.”

  “You are so fucking stubborn. Dumb, too. Maybe you don’t deserve her.” Annie poked at him with her mind like a cat batting at a toy. “But Mother gave her to you. Not to Angelo. Remember that.”

  Chapter Three

  MONICA COULDN’T GET THE KISS out of her mind. A part of her was melting inside, wanting to run and shout, chanting “Fionn Murphy kissed me!” Another part of her was still baffled and confused about his reaction to the kiss, the way he’d scrubbed his hand over his mouth, as if he was disgusted. But she’d felt his nipple harden under her hand, felt the hunger in his lips. He’d wanted her—and for that one brief moment, he’d let her feel it. She dragged a hand through her dark hair, glancing at the ends between her fingers and that one bright streak of silver. Maybe she should dye it. No. She was proud of her age. As one of the oldest and most powerful wolves in North America, she had earned every gray hair. Now she was dealing with her mate, a forty-year-old pup intent on punishing them both for every mistake he’d made in the last twenty years.

  “Monica.” She heard Ellen’s voice and looked up. Ellen was one of the best bodyguards she had—strong, lethal, much like Bianca. Ellen had taken over a lot of Bianca’s duties as Bee’s pregnancy progressed. Bianca had found it necessary to delegate the more physical tasks, and Ellen had been a logical choice. Monica was grateful for her presence. Ellen, who was often called “the Last Ghost,” had a lot in common with Monica, losing a mate young and finding her place here in the haven Monica had built for ghost wolves.

  “Do you need something, Ell?” she asked.

  “I can feel your distress across the apartment. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” She sighed. “Fionn and Annie left for North Carolina. Jack and Bee are having the ultrasound today. I made Fionn kiss me, and he hates me for it. I slept with Angelo last night. I’m a fucking mess.”

  “Oh, Monica.” Ellen sat down on the chair across from Monica’s desk. “Don’t do this to yourself. Fionn does not hate you; he hates himself. Jack and Bee will be fine, the baby will be fine, and—holy shit, he kissed you?”

  Monica laughed at the expression on Ellen’s face. “Yeah.”

  “So, what was it like?” Ellen smiled broadly, raising her eyebrows.

  “It was angry and hungry and awesome and terrible.” She frowned. “He wanted me. I could tell. And I probably drove him straight into Annie’s arms again.”

  “Monica, he’s not sleeping with Annie.” Ellen shook her head. “You think she’d do that? Now, when so much is at stake?”

  “I don’t know what I think. I know he’s not sleeping with any of my wolves—he respects me enough for that, at least. I don’t think he’s seeing any humans; he doesn’t leave the compound often enough to sustain a relationship with a human female. That leaves Annie.”

  “Wow, you’re blind.” Ellen’s voice held no humor. “He sits in that little dorm room, every night, and reads until he falls asleep. Alone.”

  “Right,” Monica scoffed, “Fionn Murphy, sleeping alone every night for five months? I don’t buy it.” But she began to see it, in her head. She could see him in his spare little dorm room, with a box of books and a half-dozen pairs of jeans hanging in the closet with his T-shirts, his feet hanging off the end of the single bed, too small for his giant frame. It seemed like exactly the kind of self-punishing nonsense Fionn Murphy would put himself through.

  “Annie sleeps in her cat form on the floor next to my bed, Monica.”

  “She sleeps in your room?” Monica met Ellen’s eyes. There was no laughter there.

  “Yeah, she’s my friend. She doesn’t like to be alone, so she bunks in with me. I don’t mind. It’s nice to have a gigantic kitty cat to snuggle on a cold night.” Ellen shrugged.

  Out in the sitting room, Monica heard Angelo on his phone, cursing in Spanish. He was most likely talking to one of his couriers—he liked to hire other Xicano wolves. Several of his employees had grown up with him in California. When he’d settled in at Amazon, they had crossed the country to join him. Angelo had offered them steady employment and a chance to rise in power in a big pack. The Sur Califas Pack in California was powerful but nowhere near as large as Amazon. She listened until she heard a gruff goodbye and then called his name.

  “Angelo, can you come in here for a minute?”

  He appeared in the doorway, brows furrowed, looking like he’d just stepped out of the pages of GQ, his thousand dollar suit enhancing his presence. In spite of his casual appearance in the evenings, between nine and five, Angelo wore his suits the same way he wore his immaculate arrogance: as if they were the only choice, the only way to dress himself. He could keep the dry cleaners on campus in business singlehandedly, and she had never once heard of him shift-and-shredding. His self-control when it came to preserving his wardrobe was legendary.

  “Where did you go this morning?”

  “I ran with Fionn,” he admitted.

  “Why?”

  “I needed to talk to him.”

  “About me.”

  “Si, Querida.”

  “Dammit, you’re all a bunch of meddling pains in my ass.” She sighed, tossing her pen down on her desk.

  “You cry in my arms. It breaks my heart for you. I’m sorry, Monica.”

  “Is it true, what Ellen just told me?” She met his dark eyes with her own. “He’s celibate?”

  He nodded. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell you.”

  “You didn’t. Ellen did. Leave me. All of you.”

  “Mon—” Ellen started to speak.

  Monica held up a hand, cutting her off. “Just go, Ellen. I’m fine. I don’t need a bodyguard in my own apartment. Lock the elevator and the stairs, as if you were going home for the night. I need to be alone.”

  “I’m sorry, Monica. It didn’t seem right to let you think there was something between Annie and Fionn.”

  “Don’t apologize, Ellen. Just get the hell out.” Monica bit out the words and watched her friends leave.

  She rested her forehead in her hands and thought about what they’d said. If it was true—and she doubted either Ellen or Angelo would lie to her—then he’d not been with anyone since he met her. The most famous playboy of the last fifty years, and he was celibate? That was just crazy talk. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized it must be true. And now he’d be gone for another month.

  A plan started forming in her head. He wanted her. She knew that much. Whatever was going on in his head, it was just that: in his head. His wolf could be convinced. She just needed to appeal to the wolf instead of the man.

  Her phone rang, Bianca’s number lighting up on the display. She smiled and pressed the speaker button. “Bee? How is everything?” she asked.

  “It’s a girl, Monica! And she’s perfect!” Bianca’s excitement rushed over the line, and Monica smiled. A girl. A new generation of Amazon.

  “Well, that’s wonderful, Bee. Is Jack’s chest puffed out with pride?” She heard Jack chuckling and realized they had her on speaker.

  “Yes, Alpha. I think I’m about to rip through my T-shirt like the Incredible Hulk.”

  “Well, I’m so thrilled for both of you. But I miss you guys. Hurry home, okay?” Monica felt her wolf let out a little whine, and she bit back a laugh.

  “Three hours,” Bee said. “We want to stop at a few stores before we head back to the sticks.”

  “Okay, Bee, Jack. See you then.” She hung up, envisioning the riot of pink and purple clothing that would soon take over Bianca and Jack’s home. She made a note to talk to them about moving into larger quarters, maybe a suite, or even starting
construction on a house. She was ecstatic for her friends to be expecting a baby, but a part of her was sad, wishing. Her first mate had died so many years ago, and she thought the longing for a baby had died with him. But the last few months, with Fionn living under her nose, that old longing had stirred up again. Monica had vicariously enjoyed Bianca’s pregnancy; however, suppressing the jealousy and longing for her own baby had been difficult.

  She needed to run, to clear her head. So she called Ellen on her cell phone.

  “Monica, is everything okay?”

  “Fine. I’m sorry I snapped at you. Wanna go for a run?”

  “Hell, yeah! Should I get Kathy and Ted?”

  “That sounds awesome, actually.” She smiled. Jack’s brother Ted was so much like Jack, except even kinder, if that were to be believed. Too bad he was the Alpha of Mid-Atlantic; otherwise, he’d have made a fine Amazon. And Kathy? Kathy was everyone’s little sister. The tiny redheaded spitfire had every wolf she’d ever met wrapped around her little finger. She possessed an innate ability to inspire others to want to take care of her, to protect her. However, she was an enigma to most. She had the strongest mental armor Monica had every encountered: her mind only shared what she chose to reveal. No one, not even her Alpha, could touch the secrets Kathy held dear.

  Monica slipped out of her clothing and tossed a robe on to conceal her nudity. She took the elevator through the library down to the ground floor and walked out amongst her pack. Too often, she spent her days sequestered in her office, working with Angelo, Bianca, and Jack. Rarely did she allow herself a run in the middle of the afternoon, but today, it seemed suddenly more important than her next breath. Ted and Kathy emerged from the building across the street, wide grins on their faces. Ted shook Monica’s hand, Alpha to Alpha, before he embraced her.

 

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