by Avery Duncan
The woman stiffened at his tone. He had a mental sigh, then narrowed his eyes on her. He had asked numerous times where they were, and every time they didn’t answer him it only made him angry.
He was not going to be subject to running around with his ass hanging out of a white dress that did not suit his coloring at all.
“I asked,” he rumbled deeply, “where my clothes are.”
The female jerked at the sound of his voice near her ear, then pulled back choppily to take a shuddering breath.
I can get a lot worse, honey. . . Just because I saved some pretty girl doesn’t mean you’ll get the same fate. Of course, though, he knew he was wrong. As much as he might be on the edge, he hadn’t come so close as to allow a woman or child to be hurt.
“They are downstairs,” she said unsteadily, obviously not knowing exactly where.
“I would like them, please.” They were his second to last pair. He wasn’t about to let some git lose them.
“They will be brought up shortly, sir,” she said, swallowing.
She ran from the room.
Jared let out a sigh and settled back into the bed, pulling the covers up around his body so that no one might take a gander at a lovely site of his old hairy ass.
He looked at the clock, wishing that his nephew would hurry his ass up. He wasn’t looking forward to being forced into going back home, but he wanted out of the white house that was keeping him trapped and almost naked.
Jared didn’t have a problem being naked—in fact, just the opposite. The feel of air, the way he felt. . . It was a perfect life when you didn’t have clothing on.
But that only applied for when he was in animal form.
The next time someone came in, it was a male nurse.
Figures.
“I have your clothes, and you’re about ready for release,” he said, lips pressed tightly as he held out clean jeans, shirts, and a jacket.
“Bring them over here, please.”
The scrub-dressed man brought over the clothing, and Jared re-adjusted himself with a sigh. He might be almost done healing, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a pain in his leg that could make a grown man cry—which he was.
Holding the precious clothing in his hand, he felt a reluctance to get up, to get dressed and signal that he was leaving a warm place. Jared wanted nothing more than to stay in hotel—only because it was warmer than where he would be going.
Because of the suspicion of his whereabouts, he had been fired from his only job. The whole community suspected him, and while he wanted to prove them wrong, to show them that he wasn’t as bad as they all thought he was, he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
The cold apartment waiting for him, probably infested with rats even after a couple of days gone. The male nurse exited after giving Jared a disdained look, one that only made him angry.
Jared stood on shaky legs, walking to the bathroom. How he was going to pay for the treatment to his leg and the room that they had let him stay in was something he would worry about later. He had no money, no nothing that could get him out of this without revealing the identity he had struggled to keep a secret for as long as he had.
The bathroom light flickered on, and he relished what he knew he wouldn’t have for a while.
A sterile bathroom.
His head hung from his shoulders, his heart heavy.
God, how he had fallen. . . The pain in his chest didn’t alleviate a single bit as he took off his dress, finding the boxers that they had thankfully kept with the bundle.
For the first time, he allowed himself to feel something other than regret, anger, and bitterness.
Sorrow.
The emotion burned inside him, almost made him fall under its staggering weight inside his heart. How he would get over this, he didn’t know.
All he knew was that he couldn’t go back to his home, and he couldn’t allow his nephew to take him. Too many questions, memories, pains, all in one place that he knew would be his destruction.
He took his hands off of the sink, the clenching starting to make his hands ache.
Jared got dressed slowly, methodically. The movements of his body reflected on how tired, worn out, and saddened he was. He could tell, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Would Mary agree with his nephew? he thought. If they knew how they lived, would he be forced out, kicked out of the pacchetto, and have to go back to the one place he desperately didn’t want to go to.
“When he’s done changing, just come down to the front desk and we can check him out. . .” a muffled voice said as he opened the door.
His nephew was leaning against the bed, arms crossed over his chest. Beside him was a lithe blonde man, whose eyes were as hard as rocks. Just staring at the man gave him chills.
“You’re late,” Jared said gruffly, hiding the emotion in his voice.
Raffaele looked just as Antonio had, before the decline. Strong, dark, and dangerous. A force that no one wanted to mess with for fear of losing their lives. Jared could remember the smile in his eyes, the knowledge that life was great and he had the whole world ahead of him, when he had been young.
But that had been before Antonio’s paranoia, before Raffaele had the innocence forced out of him by what he had had to do. At first, he had had the choice to refuse, to say no to the man that they all called leader.
Jared had always thought that he did it for his mother; to stay with her while his father had left her slowly, painfully.
If Raffaele had said no, he would have been kicked out of the pacchetto, banished and dead to them all. the refusal of the leader was sometimes close to being punishable by death, if the request was great enough. The decline in sanity that Antonio had gone through had led him to believe that he had power, he couldn’t lose it, and he would be damned if he did.
So Raffaele had had no choice but to listen, and only to stay with his family.
And Jared knew how much it had cost him when Antonio had taken a too-great risk.
It had cost them both.
Chapter 24
Raffaele stared at his uncle when he walked out of the bathroom, shoulders slump and olive skin pale. For the first time, he wondered what his uncle had gone through in the past years, where he had lived and how he had managed to survive.
Without the help of Mary and her welcoming pack, he doubted his uncle would have made it very long. When you lived for so long around family and power, the loss of it was damaging.
He wouldn’t know personally, but he could bet that the lines under Jared’s eyes said how tired he was.
Raff felt a pang in his chest, pushed it away. His uncles living conditions were not his concern—just the death conditions. Although he felt for the poor bastard, he wasn’t going to stop his plan to take his uncle’s life. It may not happen now, or months later, but he knew it would happen.
He would take his uncles life.
Next to him, Chase stiffened as he realized what Raffaele was thinking. Sometimes, the blonde had that ability and only when it was when he was at his most dangerous. He couldn’t tell exactly what Raff was thinking, but he got the gist of it.
The elbow to his ribs made him growl, and his uncle looked up with bitter confusion.
Everything about the man was bitter, he thought as he looked at him. The way his eye brows drew down, the way his shoulders curled defensively. The way his hands were clenched down at his sides.
The blue eyes that matched Raff’s held so much disdain in them that he could feel it from where he stood. His once giant frame was shrinking in size, the weight of the horrid emotion pressing him down.
“How are you feeling.” The question left a bitter taste in his mouth while his uncle shrugged his thinning shoulders.
Without giving a verbal answer, Jared limped to the bed and sat down. Raff frowned, thinking that maybe he shouldn’t be so. . .cold. Then again, he had reason to be.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked, nodding his head to Chase.
The blonde stepped forward with a charming smile, the nurse exiting the room quietly.
“Chase la Pierre,” he said, holding out a hand.
Jared reached out to return the shake, eyeing him curiously. Raff felt when his eyes flicked to him, but ignored it. He forced himself to.
“French?” he asked, lip curling.
“Only from my mother’s ancestors. I think one of them had their named changed when he moved to keep himself a secret.”
The old man’s face tightened, causing Raff’s eyes to narrow on him. “What have you been going by?” he asked, leaning forward.
Jared’s mouth tightened even worse than it could have. “Jared Franco.”
“Why.”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” His head shook.
Jared might be his elder, might be blood, but he was still the leader, even if he was in a different domain. “I think you need to re-think yourself.”
“Boy,” he growled, eyes flashing as his teeth blared. “Remember that I am still older than you.”
Raff got in his face, hands fisting. “And you remember that I have the power.”
He was just about to do something he knew he would regret when hands grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling him back. He shook off the forceful grip, a thick hand wrapping around his uncle’s neck.
The memories, the pain, the pure unadulterated fury, all came back to him in a rush. His chest felt tight, the air around them becoming heated yet freezing with the anger.
His uncles eye’s bugged, then rage clouded them and he in turn snapped out a hand, wrapping it around the thick length of his nephew’s throat, the other one coming up to execute a hard hit to his head.
“Raff, man, c’mon!” Chase whined, irritated.
He ignored the hands that once again tried to grab onto him. “Uncle, you’ll do well to remember that I have a license to murder.” Partly joking. . .
Mostly not.
Jared let out a growl as Raff’s hand tightened. “And you’ll do well to remember that I’m one of the best fighters, despite my age.”
The growled in unison.
He was just about to bring his hand down across Jared’s back and bring up his leg to push him to the ground when he heard a horrified gasp from the door way. Expecting it to be a nurse, he paid no attention as he showed his uncle who was dominant.
Smack.
Right on the back of his head. And hard.
He let out a rumble, forgetting about his uncle and turning around. He heard a thump as Jared hit the ground, a thump that resembled his heart in his chest when he realized that it hadn’t been a nurse at the door.
It had green eyes, flowing dark hair, and a hit the force of a semi-truck.
“Jared!” Mary exclaimed, rushing to help him off the floor.
Cold blue eyes shot to Raff, and he could only smile with disdain as he hid the regret he felt for Mary seeing his anger.
The look she gave him mirrored his uncle’s.
Chase groaned beside him, eyeing her. “Is that the Mary you’ve been obsessing over?” he asked, shock underlying his voice. He sounded dreadful, as if he hoped not.
He was glad that Mary was so focused on getting Jared up, despite his protests. Raff nodded slightly, not even bothering to deny Chase’s question.
“Are you sure you can’t share?” he asked, stage-whispering. At that, Mary’s head snapped in their direction, confusion written across her face, then anger taking its place.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked, appalled. For once, instead of being pushy and rude, his uncle was letting her take care of him.
And shooting Raff smug, angry looks the whole time.
Raffaele said nothing, only glared at the floor. What could he say to her? That he had been close to killing his uncle, someone she must obviously care for?
He growled under his breath, jealous of the man that she was helping. It could have been him, he thought. He could be having soft caring hands, touching his skin, caressing him. . .
Raff gripped his hands at his sides, wanting to murder his uncle despite Mary, who was checking his neck and sighing angrily.
“Why would you do this?” she asked, exasperated. Mary rounded on him, leaving Jared to fend for himself for a while.
He avoided looking at her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks and leaning against the wall.
The faint scent of heat drifted over him, and his body tightened.
Chase started laughing, going to Jared.
“Well?” she asked, planting her hands on her hips. Her eyes spoke anger, but her body was telling him something else.
He started to smile darkly.
The clack of heels sounded, then a clean, manicured nail pointed him in the chest. “Don’t smile about something like this!” she exclaimed, fury radiating off of her.
Raff brought his eyes up slowly, trailing them over her figure.
“Ms. Waters,” he said chidingly.
“What?” she snapped, taking her hand back. He regretted the small loss of her finger on him, as silly as it was. Mary took a step back, taking the heat of her body with her.
But the arousal had worsened.
“You have beautiful eyes,” he murmured partly to himself.
It was true, he realized. The brightness, the greenness, called to him. When he looked into her eyes, he thought of forests, of running to meet her, searching and finding the one that he had been looking for without knowing. Small dots of gold flecked around her pupil. He could only imagine what it would be like to wake up to those beautiful, peaceful eyes every morning. . .
Except right now, they weren’t so peaceful. In fact, he was pretty sure that while he was imagining her spread out before him, she was imagining chopping his johnnies off.
She let out an outraged gasp, even as her cheeks flushed a deep red, those bright green eyes not hiding her thoughts on the matter.
“I. . .What?” she asked, then shook her head, resuming her furious questions. “No! Don’t even, I cannot believe that you—you of all people—would do this to your own uncle.”
How she had connected it, he had no clue. It must have been pretty obvious, though.
Raff shrugged his shoulders, ignoring the thoughts of her as he said bluntly, “You don’t know me, so don’t act like you do.”
That took her back a step, causing her to quiet. Giving him a lingering look, she turned from him and he felt his heart almost. . .stop. The distance that was being placed had been visible, painful.
“I expect to see you in a couple of hours at the counselors,” she said, subdued.
Raff watched her leave, heart in his throat. For the second time that day, Chase wasn’t his usual laughing self. Instead, he was giving Raff looks that said he had messed up.
Big time.
Jared, who had been sitting quietly as she had expressed her anger at him, was staring at his nephew with something close to disappointment, bordering on anger. He was used to people being mad at him, lived off it, thrived off of it. But the looking, coming from someone he had thought of as a father for his last years of childhood, took him back and made him feel like he had been punched.
Just as he had made Mary feel.
Shoulders slumping slightly, he got up from the wall, his movements reflecting that of his heavy heart.
“I knew you had some problems with women,” Chase started. “But I didn’t think you would be this bad.”
Raff ignored his words, feeling a pang.
He had fucked up, without even having a chance.
Chapter 25
Mary swallowed her tears down with a choke, walking out of the hospital as quickly as she could.
She could see his eyes, hear his voice, know that he didn’t want her to know him...Her arms crossed over her chest as the frigid air hit her. The coldness outside matched what she was feeling on the inside.
The phone in her pocket was screaming at her to be held, demanding that she call Ulr
ich and...what? Tell him that he had been right about Jaques, that it would have been better had she kept herself extracted him?
She snorted bitterly, unlocking her Audi and climbing inside. Yeah, that would go well. The minute Ulrich heard the tearful, choked voice that she knew she was sporting, he would be all over Jacques’ ass, teeth and claws bared.
As much pain as she was feeling, as much as she was embarrassed for having assumed and felt anything, she wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
One of the many prom rejections had ended with the man in the hospital, bleeding internally and hating their family with a passion. Yeah, she would be foolish to mess things up worse to have her brother involved.
Her phone buzzed as she was backing out, but she ignored it, blinking with something like...shock.
Was she actually crying over Jacques, the man who had made one comment to make her feel as if she were more than just a leader, the words spoken so tenderly and sweetly that it had made her...blush?
Mary could have slapped herself.
It was like high school all over again.
Her mind blank except for how much her heart hurt and how utterly stupid she was, she drove around aimlessly, past her house and, not even realizing it, to the outskirts of town, more close to the highway than anything.
She wiped under her eyes jerkily, letting an angry breath out as she tried to stop herself form crying.
The trembling of her lips didn’t stop, however.
Unbidden and out of place, the dream from several nights ago came back, almost over taking the thoughts of Jacques. The woman...who was she? Mary thought, forcing the distraction.
Jacques’ hard voice and beautiful eyes would have to wait, she told herself. Everything about the man would just...have to wait.
Romero had called her earlier, on her way to the hospital. He had said something about lavender, Jacques, and...witches. Her lips twitched with disbelief, once again, as she pulled into a back road that was just off the ramp of the highway.
