He’d been only twelve when he’d first visited the newly born infant, named Steele at birth, howling in the bassinet outside the damned house. Even then, his parents couldn’t show his brother any kindness or consideration.
“He’ll get used to it,” his father said.
Killian and the rest of the Greenland pack trained hard in the warrior ways, hardened from an early age to fight, not feel. But what they were doing to his brother, well, that was something altogether different.
His parents were scared shitless of a baby.
There had been talk of killing Steele—or secreting him away because of fear of the prophecy.
Killian had also heard the discussion among the pack before the baby had been born that their mother had done everything in her power to rid herself of the baby. The fact that nothing had worked made them even more fearful. They gave Steele only the most basic of necessities to not let him die and anger the Elders.
Kill made sure that Stray reached an age where he could fend for himself before he took off, figuring they wouldn’t dare try to harm him.
He’d been so very wrong. And when he’d come across his brother, trying to die and unable to, his blood had boiled. Actually, his body had begun to tingle days earlier, alerting him to Steele’s impending birthday, as if he could’ve ever forgotten it. He’d traveled back from Alaska to find him, and when he’d tracked Steele, his heart broke for both of them.
Goddamned fucking prophecy. Leave it to the Elders to be purposely obtuse. Help or no help, he and his brother were here to stay, and the world would just have to deal with them in kind.
To see Steele being mauled … well, he couldn’t sit and watch. No, because then he’d have to wait and see if an immortal Dire could regenerate.
But even as the polar bears tried to rip and bite off Steele’s limbs, they wouldn’t give, not the way they would’ve if he’d been born regular Dire.
Rather than letting Steele remain under their torture, Kill figured he could put an end to everything.
He wasn’t sure if Steele knew that he’d also run the knife through his own heart, fell to the snow and suffered there for several hours until his wound healed.
Steele had been unconscious, but he’d healed too. Killian had cut him down and carried him out of the danger, away from the pack who’d held him hostage for twenty-one years. He would never send his brother back there.
But when his younger brother woke, he was definitely going to be pissed.
“I know why you changed your name, but you were never a stray to me,” Killian told him now, felt a jolt of emotion he hadn’t been sure he was capable of anymore.
“I can’t believe … you never told me.” Stray’s eyes were full of an emotion Killian had never seen directed at him before—kindness.
“Does it change what I did?”
“It puts it in perspective.” He moved forward, touched his brother’s chest. “You have two scars here.”
He looked Stray in the eye. “I tried to kill myself before I came to you. When it didn’t take, I thought …”
“Maybe if we were together …”
“Seems we’re entangled for life, brother, no matter how much you hate it.”
“And you stayed away then … just like you’ve been staying away for the past fifty years.” Stray grabbed his brother’s shoulder and pulled him closer. Killian wanted to resist, didn’t want to get used to this touchy-feely shit because soon it would be over. Stray would realize they couldn’t stay together as a family and he’d be alone again.
Not knowing what he’d been missing made everything a lot easier. But still, he allowed Stray to hug him.
Chapter 33
Stray felt the initial resistance, but then Killian embraced him back willingly. When they pulled apart, Stray told his brother, “Let’s go talk to the others about the rest of the plans.”
Killian shrugged like it didn’t matter one way or the other, but Stray knew far better. The wolf followed him into the kitchen and the talking ceased.
It was only Rifter and Gwen now.
“Vice is going to check on Kate,” Rifter explained. “I thought it best to keep this small. Sit, please.” Rifter gestured to the seats across from them. “I’ll brief Vice, who’ll will fill Jinx in on our plans.”
“And the witch?” Killian asked.
“Kate,” Stray corrected him, and Killian nodded and repeated, “Kate.”
“I think it’s best she concentrate on her part in all of this, rather than muddy her mind with the entire plan,” Rifter said diplomatically, and Killian smiled.
“You don’t trust her either.”
“Ah, fuck, Killian—give it a rest, all right?” Stray took a slug from the water bottle Gwen pushed in front of him.
“No one’s going to talk about the fact that my brother’s bound to a witch?” Killian demanded, the protectiveness in his voice hard to miss.
“It’s something we can figure out later,” Rifter said. “Can we focus on the fact that Seb and the trappers are determined to take over the goddamned humans? The fallout in the supernatural world will be tremendous.”
“And where are the rest of them?” Killian demanded. “The packs? The vamps? Heads in the sand, I’m assuming.”
“I kind of like him,” Gwen said with a small smirk.
“Let’s talk about the Greenland pack.” Rifter covered Gwen’s hand with his, and he wasn’t the least bit upset with her. Obviously, their queen was learning to straddle the fine line of a mated alpha king’s unpredictable temper.
Now if she could just talk him into bringing Jinx back.
“They’re not like us,” Kill practically hissed. Stray heard the hatred behind his brother’s words, one he himself felt every time he thought about them. “They have a shelf life. No abilities.” Fucking cowards.
Dial it back, Kill, Stray told him.
“But they’re self-sustaining, procreating Dires, and they should be under my rule,” Rifter said steadily. Gwen couldn’t help but nod at the truth of his words.
“Rifter, I don’t think we can get the Greenland Dires on our side before the great war goes down. Let’s get through that and then you can deal with Greenland,” Gwen suggested, taking over a role usually filled by Vice.
Rifter bowed his head for a moment. Stray scented an imminent shift and then it passed. Rifter’s eyes were still changed, but his countenance was calm. “Agreed. But I want the exact coordinates of the pack. And everything you know about them. Everything. Start with how many are left.”
“Last I checked, still probably thirty Dires. Two alphas in charge of different packs, but they live in the same village for safety reasons,” Killian told them. “They live for at least several hundred years. Most of them die from hunters when they’re in wolf form. None have lived as long as you.”
“But they knew of us?”
“You’re legend,” Kill admitted without a trace of sarcasm. “I’m glad Steele—Stray—found you.”
“We found him,” Rifter corrected.
“And you took him on without question. Don’t be angry that he’s never spoken about me to your pack.”
“I understand why he didn’t. But if you and Stray work together, the prophecy is set in motion.”
“It already is.” Killian stared at Rifter. “We’ll fight the trappers and then I’ll leave.”
Stray hadn’t asked him to do that—had wanted to, but now everything had changed. Before he could protest, Gwen said, “You’ll be hunted.”
“I’ll manage,” Kill said.
“It doesn’t seem fair,” Gwen murmured.
“No one ever promised fair,” Killian told her. “I’ll live.
She looked so sad at Killian’s words. “There are so few of us. We should be together.”
“When’s the last time you saw your parents?” Rifter asked both of them.
“I haven’t seen them since the day you tried to kill us both,” Stray said to Kill, his voice steady as
he looked between his brother and Rifter. He noticed the surprise in Rifter’s face, but there had been no rancor in Stray’s tone.
“I haven’t seen them in fifty years.” Kill rocked back in his chair and stared at Stray. “And I made sure you’ll never see them again.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re dead.”
“How?” Stray demanded.
“Murdered in cold blood by another Dire. Turnabout’s fair play, I figure.” Kill looked as though he understood the seriousness of his words and the actions he’d taken. He didn’t look particularly proud or cocky, but there was no remorse either.
“Why?” Rifter asked. Killing one’s parents in the Dire community meant a sentence of death. The execution was traditionally a beheading.
Kill seemed completely unconcerned. “They tried to kill my brother, so I killed them for that transgression.”
Stray didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. Kill might be dark, but he didn’t lie.
Rifter stood, the chair falling behind him, a hand pulling down the neck of his shift to reveal the tribal wolf on his chest.
Killian looked up at him and nodded in silent confirmation to whatever Rifter was attempting to ask. Stray was as confused as Gwen until Rifter said tightly, “Killian’s a skinwalker now. A powerful one at that. A consequence of killing one’s parents.”
The implications of that were phenomenal. Beyond the powers that he and Stray had together … Stray couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Didn’t want to. “This should never have happened.”
Kill stared at him, his expression momentarily softening. “It had to, Stray. They’d never have left you alone otherwise.”
“They came looking for me?” Stray asked.
“While you were recovering, they tracked us. Dad and some of the other pack alphas. Mom too. You were still in and out of consciousness. You’d healed and then you shifted twice in the space of an hour.”
Stray remembered part of that—the total and complete confusion, the pain … Brother Wolf attempting to comfort him and failing miserably for those first days.
Extenuating circumstances, Brother pointed out with a haughty sniff.
“They broke into my hiding place when you were still recovering from everything—the mauling, the knife, your first shifts. I killed the lot of them before they laid a hand on you again. And then I left their bodies for the bears.” Kill’s voice was tight again, and Stray finally understood what Rifter had been saying all along—sometimes you have to cause a lot of damage to avoid hurting people.
“Holy hell, Killian—I’m worried about you,” Stray told him.
“You’re worried about me?” Kill sounded incredulous. “You’re the catalyst to our powers. Without you, my words wouldn’t take permanently. When you were born, it was all set in motion. You thought you needed me to help, Stray. Turns out you were wrong—you’ve been the necessary one all along.”
Stray’s throat tightened at the truth in his brother’s words. He looked down to catch his breath as Killian explained the jolt in powers that would happen now that they were together.
“And the skinwalker ability?” Rifter asked.
“It makes everything I do … stronger,” Kill said.
“That explains how you took out the possessed Weres,” Rifter said. “Thank you, Killian. For that. For saving your brother.”
Killian got up and went to the window, turning his back to them as the emotion grew heavy around them. And Stray knew then he’d always really been part of Killian’s heart.
Chapter 34
Night cycled around. Cain didn’t feel all that much better, knew he had to wait, play possum until darkness settled and so he remained close to the fed, pretending to sleep soundly under the cheap motel quilt. Wondered again why Angus would risk his life for him.
Realized how much he owed the man. Cain didn’t like owing anyone.
Now he felt his twin was close, waiting to pick him up. And he could swear the ground under his feet was shifting a little, but that was probably a leftover effect of the drugs.
He stood, still a little shaky, and pulled his shirt on as Angus watched. “Look, thanks for this. I owe you.”
“And I’ll collect.”
“I figured as much.” Cain pocketed his phone. “But you still need to be careful. I’m not the most dangerous thing out there.”
The wolf was almost out the door before Angus told him, “You’re the most dangerous for me.”
*
Seb leaned against the stone wall, watched the man go down on him as Seb’s hand fisted his hair, moving his head faster.
He’d come four times already and still he needed more. He felt as though he was ready to burst through his skin. His body’s appetites were suddenly ferocious, and the women Leo brought him weren’t enough. No, they were like sacrificial lambs laid to slaughter and they gladly sacrificed themselves for what they considered the cause.
Earlier, he’d watched the Dire army slaughter yet another cemetery full of corpses and ghosts. They were bloodthirsty and bent on revenge.
They were perfect. Leo was pleased, as was the demon Kondo.
Lila wouldn’t be pleased at all, a voice he didn’t recognize at all spoke inside his head.
“Who the fuck is that?” he demanded of the demon, but the only sounds were the furious sucking ones. He yanked the man away from him disgustedly and began to prowl around the otherwise unoccupied room with the bed in one corner and the small bathroom in the other.
He hadn’t been allowed out since Mars was killed, not even to glimpse the sunlight.
Now he decided he’d make it rain all the time, since he didn’t care.
A brilliant white light flashed before his eyes. He turned away, momentarily blinded as though he’d just run across a flash-bang grenade from his Navy days. Kondo scrabbled madly inside his head, like it was unable to gain access to Seb’s mind. For the first time in weeks, Seb’s mind was momentarily all his own.
“I can’t promise it will stay that way,” the white light explained. He blinked and stared at it, shielding his gaze a little with one hand above them. He could make out some kind of figure within, but it was like she wore a purposeful shroud.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“For every demon, there’s one of us,” she explained. “Even though you brought this on yourself with hubris—and power combined.”
“Fuck you,” he told her. “And that’s not the demon talking. That’s all me.”
“What you need …”
“Is sex,” Kondo growled through him, cutting her off.
“Can you get this bastard out?” Seb demanded of the white light.
“Out, yes, but you’ll still be half controlled. I’m here for balance.”
“Can everyone see you?”
“Just you and demon-breath. If you want it out, you have to help me.”
He closed his eyes and focused on that black ball of negative energy inside of him, imagined it growing smaller and smaller until he was able to force it out of himself.
It came out through his mouth in a huff of smoke, causing him to choke, fall to his knees. When he looked up, there was black smoke next to the white gauzy shroud.
Somehow, he’d gotten strong enough to force Kondo to live outside his body.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t have control,” Kondo pointed out.
“How did I do that?” Seb asked.
“It’s too cursed inside your body for him to gain a foothold,” the white shroud answered. “You’ve become your own worst enemy.”
That couldn’t be good. “Why are you here?”
“Lila sent me,” the white shroud answered.
Kondo laughed and said, “You can’t believe her.”
Seb knew at that moment that he couldn’t trust either of them. He also couldn’t trust himself, but he’d known that for much longer.
*
Playing both sides against the middle was always a ri
sky move, but Angus hadn’t gotten as far as he had in life and his career by being safe. And so going back to Shimmin and telling him that he’d taken Cain on purpose, that Shimmin didn’t realize the Were was so much more useful to them alive because of his semi-relationship with Angus could’ve meant certain death for him. But Shimmin wasn’t completely stupid—and not all that hard to convince.
“The trappers, especially Al, think you talk too much,” Shimmin told him now.
“I get results.”
“What results did you get from Cain Chambers?”
“He’s not an omega.”
“He’s lying to you, then.”
“He’s lying to everyone—including the Dires—so they’ll keep him. The only one who’s supposed to see his glow is Liam, and Cain’s convinced that would-be king that he hasn’t seen it because he’s so new,” Angus lied.
Shimmin nodded, and Angus began to wonder if he’d told an actual truth. He must’ve, because Shimmin said, “Only his alpha king and his mate can see the glow—it’s an omega’s protection very few know about. And he doesn’t have a mate.”
Angus swallowed hard. “Right.”
“So you’re the only one he trusted with his deception?”
“I heard him convincing Liam, and then I did some research. I can spot a fraud, Shimmin.”
“Well, then, welcome to your initiation. Al will walk you through it.” Shimmin pointed to the small group of trappers coming through the trees, clapped Angus on the shoulder and began to walk to his car. “If all goes well today—and it should—you’ll be official.”
Angus watched Shimmin drive off before turning his attention to Al, who narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t trust you fully, Angus, but Shimmin said you have a plan.”
He had a plan, all right. It involved all these assholes getting hurt.
But obviously, so did they. Two trappers dragged a young, terrified boy wrapped in silver chains and dropped him to the ground in front of Angus.
Dire Wants Page 23
