“She’s not blocking any shot of mine,” Danny said coolly, hiding the anxiety tightening the hard muscles across his back into granite.
Jackson released the iron grip he had around Jade’s waist and gave her a peck on the cheek, a swat on her rear end, and sent her on her way. His eyes never left Danny’s.
Kurt and Danny parted as Jade passed between them, her eyes wide with unasked questions I didn’t have time to answer. Kurt’s gaze followed Jade as she passed him, his shoulders squared and his tightened as his nostrils flared.
As soon as the door closed behind Jade, the growling started, low and threatening in the wind. A deeper pitch than Danny sent a shiver up my spine. Jackson pivoted on the balls of his feet and rolled his shoulders, dangling his hands loose at his sides, ready for a fight. The situation had gone very wrong, very quickly.
“You pussy,” Jackson growled through clenched teeth.
Danny returned Jackson’s snarl and pushed out his chest, taking a small steadying step back as he angled his body for the fight.
“I was hoping to avoid this,” Danny mumbled as he squared his shoulders and took a deep, resigned breath.
Jackson crouched and pushed off the balls of his feet into the air. He was in mid leap when the tranquilizer hit him, puncturing his neck. Jackson collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap of arms, legs, skin, and fur.
Danny lowered his arm and exhaled.
“What the hell did you shoot him with?” I asked, my mouth hanging open in astonishment. I’d never seen a tranquilizer take down a big guy like Jackson so fast.
“Diazepam,” Danny answered and nodded.
Kurt leapt from the porch toward Jackson’s unconscious figure without a word. “He’ll burn it off fast so we have to get moving.”
Danny followed Kurt onto the walk and the two picked Jackson up off the ground, carrying him to Danny’s Durango. They shoved Jackson in the back and slammed the door with a dull thud.
I stepped down the first few stairs. The cold wasn’t the only thing I smelled in the air.
Kurt breezed by me and into the house without a glance back. He’d promised me to help Jade and I had a feeling he was worried about her.
I spun in search of the smell of rotten flowers that floated heavy on the breeze. I glanced around the house, down the street both ways, and out into the darkness. The street was empty but I felt eyes on me. My blood rushed through my veins and my stomached tightened into tight knots. If Midnight Ash chose that moment, I was dead. We were all dead. We were too exposed, too distracted.
“Danny!”
“Yeah?” He came around the Durango toward me. The look in his eyes was distant and that voice inside me cried out to protect him. I had to push her away in order to think. Somehow, if we could just make it into the Durango, everyone would be safe.
“We need to go,” I snapped as I made a beeline for the SUV. The pavement beneath me moved at a blistering pace and I realized I was running. “NOW!” I ordered.
He jumped into the driver’s side and shoved the keys into the ignition. I hopped into the passenger side and prayed. It was the first time in a long time that I remembered praying in earnest. I found the words Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by Thy name, rolling through my mind like I’d been to mass yesterday. The engine roared to life and before I opened my eyes at the end of the prayer, we were gone.
We were several minutes down the road before either of us spoke. “He’ll be out for a while so all we really need to do is drop him off with Dean. He’ll call a Manit,” Danny said.
I remained silent. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t get the scent of rotten flowers out of my nose, making me feel like I was on the verge of sneezing. The hot air from the vents finally pushed that horrible scent from my senses but I still had the eerie shiver of being watched.
“It’s out of the moon cycle to have a Pack gathering that large. The waxing moon doesn’t start for another week but it’s important,” he said, trying to fill the silence.
I was still trying to slow my heart rate down and only half listening as he rambled. I’d never been so scared and my mind raced with what would have happened if I’d stayed behind.
“So what was that all about?”
“Didn’t you smell her back there?” I asked. I braced myself between the seat and the dash, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. His hazel gray gaze flashed amber as he glanced my way. He should have caught that scent long before I did with his werewolf sense of smell.
“You didn’t smell her, did you?” I slumped down in the seat and thought again about the few seconds that my nose had filled with her horrifying scent. I had smelled her. I was positive I had and now I was sure that Midnight Ash was fucking with me.
“Smell who, Hon?” he asked, using the term of endearment as if he’d been calling me that for years. I caught myself smiling at the sound of it rolling off his tongue.
I drifted through thoughts of Danny calling me ‘Honey’ while we made dinner, or over breakfast, or any of the million other everyday things that people who are together do. They were all things that I would never be able to do with Patrick.
My smile faded.
I wanted all of those things but I wanted them with Patrick, not Danny. And in the pit of my stomach I knew that was true. I’d never sit on the kitchen counter engrossed in a story while Patrick made me breakfast. I’d never wake up in Patrick’s arms with the sun shining on my face and I’d never see him standing at the end of the aisle smiling at me.
Who am I kidding? I’m not the white dress type. I’m more the blood-spattered jeans type, which suits me just fine. I might like some of those things one day, though.
“Hey,” he said with a laugh. “What’s going on up there?” he asked, tapping my temple with his index finger.
I shook off my disappointment and refocused. I had a ninja fucking with me. There were more important things to worry about than my crushed girlhood dreams.
“I was just thinking about Jackson back there,” I said with a grumble. I hoped he didn’t notice or sense the lie. “Are you telling me that you seriously didn’t smell the rotting flowers back there? I smelled it all around me . . .”
He should’ve smelled it.
Midnight Ash was definitely fucking with me. I leaned back sinking into my seat and trying to disappear. I’d be damned if I let her get me.
“Don’t worry about Jackson. The Pack will deal with him at the Manit,” Danny said, his voice as sharp as the edge of a knife. “Are you sure you smelled dead flowers back there,” he asked in a softer, questioning tone.
I was tired and stressed and seriously considering relocation abroad, so I didn’t need Danny’s lack of confidence. In the back of my mind, I knew running wouldn’t help. Midnight Ash would just find me, but the vineyards of Tuscany were a fantastic Plan B to fantasize about. The Mediterranean sun was looking better and better all the time.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I’m sure.”
Chapter 7
We pulled up on a residential street in Upper Arlington. I’d been there before. The large Arts and Crafts home with a well-manicured lawn, a beautiful, old oak tree in the front lawn, and little white flowers lining the walk dominated the other houses on the street. I had flashes of Danny walking into this house before. Candace. I’d followed Candace and Danny to this house several months back. Dean’s house.
My heart rate skipped and the weight of the world dropped away from my shoulders as I remembered the feeling of finally being home that had spread through me the first time. I approached the front porch and that same welcoming feeling spread over me, warming my face and body. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that feeling of safety until I was overwhelmed by it. I could almost hear the grunt of contentment in my mind as she whispered . . . home.
; The house pulsed with energy and warmth before we even reached the porch. The closer we got to the front door the more my skin tingled with the scorching heat of Dean’s power as it wrapped around me, seeped into my bones and welcomed me. It didn’t burn but it was hot in my mind’s eye making sweat bead on my upper lip in the cold winter air. Danny opened the door for me and I entered with cautious, light steps.
The door swung open to a neutral, manufactured living room, warm and masculine, decorated all in dark browns and mahoganies. It looked like it had been ordered right out of a Pottery Barn catalog. I followed Danny through the house. He had Jackson, who was still out for the count, draped over his left shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
Dean met us in the foyer. He eyed Danny and Jackson with a sad press of his usually full lips, making them thin and almost indiscernible. His whole body seemed to stiffen as he met my eyes. His jaw clenched and his olive-green eyes hardened as he raked his gaze over me in a way that made my body tighten all over. He didn’t want me there. I could feel it in my gut and see it in the hard edge of his glare. For a split second I saw a glimmer of anguish cross his face that I didn’t understand.
His nostrils flared as he took in my scent. His jaw clenched tight, making the muscles along his jaw jump, and he balled his hands into tight fists at his sides. All softness from his eyes disappeared. He glared at me, accusing me of something I couldn’t fathom. I set my shoulders back and met his determined gaze with my own. He wasn’t going to push me around. I didn’t care if he didn’t want me there or not. I had a job to do.
Safe . . . warm . . . home, she whispered like a fog through my mind.
Shut up! I hissed back at her.
I wasn’t home and Dean didn’t want me in his house. That much was plain on his face. For reasons I couldn’t explain, the fact that he didn’t want me around hurt. I shoved that down deep and kept moving. Nothing could touch me if I kept moving.
“Bring him back,” Dean ordered as he turned on his heels and led us through the dining room. I followed, gawking at the full, cherry-finished dining room suite and china hutch from floor to ceiling. The front of the china cabinet was all glass and filled with wine glasses and a simple gold-leaf-rimmed china set. There was something very old about everything, like being in my grandparents’ house. I half expected a little woman with bright eyes and an apron tied around her waist to pop out at any moment with a plate of cookies in her hands. It seemed out of place for the rest of the house.
I moved through Dean’s house, fascinated by what kind of man he was. He had full-service dinner china. There was art on the walls. Honest to goodness art, not the stuff you buy at the department store and pretend that you’re sophisticated. These were actual oil on canvases and an entire wall of black-and-white journalism-style photographs of the Pack mounted in a gallery format. I ran into the doorjamb between the dining room and the kitchen, slamming my shoulder into the hard oak of the trim as I gawked.
“Ow,” I groaned as my shoulder bounced off the wall. Danny turned to glance back at me. “I’m all right,” I grumbled in embarrassment. I strode by him, ignoring my idiocy and the entertainment tugging at Danny’s mouth. I followed the Gaoh out the back door and down into the yard. Dean hadn’t turned to see if I was hurt.
The yard was well maintained like the front. The entire perimeter was surrounded by tall oaks, shrubbery, and a double-sided privacy fence that gave this house the privacy I suspected the Pack required.
Dean strutted the few steps off the back porch and jerked on a storm shelter door that was lodged in the grass at the corner of the yard. I followed him as he descended the concrete steps into the darkness. Danny pulled up the rear, having to shift Jackson down from his shoulders when Jackson’s ass slammed into the storm shelter doorframe.
A long hallway stretched on forever before me with emergency lights lining the walls in an eerie white glow. A chill of antiseptic recognition ran through me as four plain white doors lined the hallway. Dean stopped at the first one on the right and turned the wheel in the center of the door counter clockwise. He tugged open the heavy metal, looking more like it belonged on an aircraft carrier than in the storm cellar which eased my hackles. Dean held the heavy door open. When I tried to walk in, he grabbed my bicep and stopped me. His grip hot and tight on my arm, burning through my coat and into my skin at each fingertip. Danny carried Jackson in, dumping his body in the cell.
It was a small 10 x 10 foot room with no windows and no way out. The walls were reinforced steel with a small ventilation system in the ceiling. The vents were maybe six inches wide, not nearly big enough to escape. They weren’t even big enough to stick an arm through.
Dean had a werewolf jail behind his house and no one would suspect a thing. I wasn’t even sure that his neighbors would be able to hear the howling. The cells were underground and looked well fortified and probably soundproofed. Impressive.
The heat of Dean’s fingers burned on my arm like hot coals and settling low in my body. I should’ve jumped when he touched me. I should’ve stepped back and slugged him. I should’ve done a lot of things besides stand there and hope he couldn’t feel my heart racing.
Home . . .
Danny backed out and shoved the door closed, turning the wheel to lock it from the outside. Dean removed his hand from my arm, jerking back as if he felt the burn. He didn’t look at me as he stormed back up the stairs into the chilled night air. His shoulders and back stiff.
“How long?” Dean asked, a soft growl in his voice.
“Tomorrow night, I think. He has enough tranquilizers in him to knock out a small elephant for 24 hours,” Danny answered.
“Don’t you think you overdid it?”
Dean seemed on edge all of a sudden. The calm Gaoh he’d been when we showed up had vanished. He was doing everything in his power not to look at me, which set my teeth on edge.
“He was about to start a brawl on my front fucking lawn,” I snapped. “And partially shifted when Danny took him down. So, no, I don’t think he overdid it.” I almost growled and I couldn’t even say why I was suddenly so angry with him. I turned and stalked back toward the house, ignoring all of them. I was tired, scared, and pissed off. I refused to think about what the Gaoh thought of me. I didn’t care what he thought. At least, that’s what I told myself.
Even if I did care, which I did for some unknown reason, I wouldn’t let him know it. I just wanted to leave so my heart would stop beating a heavy cadence out of my chest.
“Not your concern or Pat’s,” Dean growled.
Fanfuckingtastic!
I stopped but didn’t turn. I kept my back to them, even if it could be considered a challenge. I didn’t care. I was mad enough that tears prickled at the corners of my eyes and I didn’t want either of them to see me cry.
“Then get your house in order and we won’t have a problem,” I spat and continued to the back door, through the house, and out to Danny’s Durango.
That’s right, I’m a total badass.
Chapter 8
I stood before the deep mahogany desk, my hands clasped behind my back almost at ease. I’d seen my dad stand like that a thousand times and at the thought, I released the grip I had on my wrist. Patrick paced behind his chair, his eyes fixed on the Persian rug on the floor, his hands tight fists at his side.
Danny sat on the couch with a comfortable and confident smug smile on his face. He’d entered Patrick’s office with a different air about him, a swagger that hadn’t been there before. Great!
“Are you absolutely sure you smelled it?” Patrick asked for the third time as he stopped pacing long enough to meet my eyes. I nodded again and he continued his back and forth parade of one. He stopped. “And you smelled nothing?” he asked, pointing a long, threatening finger at Danny. The smug ass sat on the couch his fingers laced behind his head, cool and casual, as i
f nothing could touch him. I rolled my eyes.
“Like I said, nothing,” Danny answered as he draped his arms over the back of the couch.
“ALEX!” Patrick bellowed, his voice echoing through the house like a single drop of water in a cave.
Alex sauntered into the office without a glance in either Danny’s or my direction. I snorted at the slight, ignoring the tingle in the tips of my fingers as anger tightened my gut. My phone beeped and vibrated with an incoming text in my back pocket and I huffed, thankful for the distraction.
I yanked the phone from my back pocket and touched the screen.
Turn on the news!!! J
Middle East troubles again? I didn’t have time for this shit.
I’m a little busy. Can it wait? Dahlia
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and turned my attention to Patrick and Alex. If Alex didn’t have an answer, I was pretty much fucked. Patrick and Alex whispered behind the desk, in an all-out snit that made my pulse quicken. What the hell was going on?
I’d only seen Patrick raise his voice once and that was when I was about to be slaughtered by the Ahriman demon Ethan had summoned. Plan B was looking better and better every moment. I wonder what Tuscany was like this time of year.
Turn on the local news NOW!!! J
Okay. Okay. I don’t argue when someone yells at me over text messaging. That’s hard to do.
“Hey.” Patrick and Alex were still whispering to each other with their heads together like a couple of school kids. Neither of them was paying one bit of attention to me. “HEY!”
Their heads snapped up in unison. Creepy. I wouldn’t even have asked but I couldn’t work the high-tech remote for the television Patrick had hidden in the wall. There was a series of buttons to push and I could never remember the order to make the damned thing work. Stupid technology! I just wanted to turn the damned thing on. There should be a button for ‘power.’ Simple.
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