Tessa cups a hand over her mouth to stop a hysterical giggle from interrupting Tanya's pathetic attempts at ass-kissing.
“You have shown that you're willing to take away a royal Lanarre's bid for the throne.”
Tanya's eyes narrow. “We share the same blood.”
“But not a shred of the same integrity,” Tessa notes in a dry voice.
Laz gives her a look that silently begs for her not to speak.
Like that will ever work. Tahlia is a fine Were—brave, strong and foolhardy, like all Were just out of whelphood—but she is not the conniving slut Tanya is.
Tanya shoots a look her way that smacks too closely as a warning for Tessa's liking.
Tessa stands, and Laz does, too. “What are you doing?”
Her eyes narrow to slits. “She's challenging me.” The alpha inside Tessa rises, growling. She wants to charge Tanya so much, she can taste the other Were's blood on her tongue.
Tanya's lips curl into a knowing smile.
“Who cares if she challenges you?” Laz asks logically. “Our bid is to go. Let the Lanarre sort this mess.”
Tessa gazes up at him. Though she is quite tall herself, he is nearly a foot taller.
His normally pale-blue eyes are deep charcoal.
Lazarus senses battle, her beast, or something. Whatever she does next will matter to them both. Her behaving in a volatile way isn't helping.
However, sometimes, her beast rules.
Tessa fights her nature.
Drek says, “What I do or do not decide in regard to this rogue Alpha female is mine to decide. I will not take the advice of a female seductress who was intent on usurping the rightful female.”
Tanya fists her delicate hands. “Tahlia didn't even want you!”
Oh shit. Tanya cringes inwardly.
Conflicting emotions wash over Drek's face. None of them good, especially the last one.
Anger.
“You drove her from the protection of the Hoh pack!” Drek finally loses his patience. “She would be here if it weren't for your interference.”
Tanya leans back, juts out a hip, and points at Drek. “It was your wolves who beat her down. Didn't use their noses, and for some reason, you tied us both up. Now, is that any way to treat your betrothed?”
Drek pivots, giving Tanya his back, and paces away from her.
Another Lanarre approaches him, whispering something close to his ear.
Drek gives a vehement shake of his head.
“I don't have time for this, Bowen.”
“Your highness.” Bowen's eyebrows lift, and Tessa intuits instantly that they are closer than the formal words would indicate.
She can scent kinship anywhere—it's one of her gifts. This Bowen has the blood of the Lanarre. Maybe he's distantly related to Drek?
“You must make time. Figure out what to do with this female so you can take care of important matters.”
They discuss something beyond what Tessa and Laz can hear. After about five minutes of heated back-and-forth discussion, Drek turns.
He looks directly at Tessa. “I'm sorry. I know that we'd discussed your leaving.” Drek's gaze shifts to Laz.
Blood oath. Tessa can feel his heartbeat wildly thumping inside her damp grip. Probably keeping time with mine.
“I-I don't understand.” Tessa looks first at Drek, then his right-hand Were, Bowen. “Laz and I want to leave. I helped get Tahlia to you, and even though Tanya is a snake”—Tessa ignores her insulted huff in the background—“she has a point. There was a breakdown in command, hierarchy... whatever. Tahlia and I were treated like shit. By your males.”
Bowen's face becomes ruddy under her scrutiny. “We're aware, female—”
“Tessa.” She frowns. This is going backward. Fast.
He nods. “Tessa. We're aware that things could have been handled better.”
Tessa lets go of Laz's hand and folds her arms. Her glare sweeps over Drek, Bowen, and Tanya—hell, the entire room of Lanarre aren't immune to her disdain. Asshats.
“I have fought to stay out of the talons of Tramack, an insane Alpha from the Western.”
Drek nods. “We ran into him.”
Tessa sweeps a palm up. “So you know. He's a nut bunny.”
His lips quirk. “I wouldn't go that far, but he'd healed significant damage wrought by a demonic.”
All eyes go to Lazarus.
Oh shit. Not what she wanted—their attention on Laz.
She unfolds her arms and takes a quarter-step in front of her male, ready to fight off anyone who would dare come between them.
“Relax, female.” Drek holds up a palm, but his eyes have gone wolfen. “We have no intention of harming the demonic.”
An uproar ensues, voices growling and leaping around the room within the open acoustics of wood, stone, and tall ceilings. A wave of their anger strikes Tessa, and she clings to Laz's hand, pressing her body against his.
Laz doesn't return the hard hold, and she realizes he's readying himself to step away from her—to fight if the need arises.
A sharp and commanding bark splits the air, causing her eardrums to thrum, and she cringes.
“Enough!” Drek roars, slowly revolving, catching the eyes of every Were who would meet his dominant stare.
None do.
“I am your prince. And Tahlia, no matter what the circumstances of her coming here, was your future princess. Through a series of bungled communication and rash thought processes, she has fled. In bird form.” His tone is disgusted.
Everyone in that huge room understands how difficult tracking a Were who can shapeshift into another form will be. Especially one who is a bird.
A needle in a haystack.
“To be fair, Prince Drek,” says a Were who leans casually against one of the huge round timbers in the center of the room, “it was confusing to have who we now know was Tanya claiming to be your intended. When we understood you and Bowen to be searching for her.”
“Her party was late,” another Were states as fact.
The two Weres exchange a loaded glance.
“That was partly my fault,” Lazarus speaks for the first time, and now it's Tessa's turn to grab his forearm in warning. Her heart climbs her throat.
He doesn't listen, of course.
Aren't we a pair.
“Speak,” Drek commands.
Laz touches her hand lightly. “I was sent on a mission from Below. Praile and I were to dismantle the Region One Singer compound and slay or infect their Rare One.”
Murmuring begins, and Tessa wants to cover her face with her hands. Now they'll never let them go. Laz has admitted his willingness to commit an atrocity against another supernatural group. What's to stop him from doing the same here?
Why would they let him live?
“And?” Drek asks.
For the first time, Tessa has a sense of grudging respect for the Lanarre prince. Maybe he's not just a figurehead. Laz has confessed to something awful, and Drek hasn't had him executed on the spot.
“When I arrived, Tony Laurent, a Were from the Northwestern had committed murder of the entire Region Two in collusion with the low demonic. There were few survivors, and the Rare One was successfully infected with a piece of our essence.”
Drek scowls. “What does this have to do with your role in Tahlia's murdered guardians?”
“Tony Laurent was insane. He would have taken after, dismembered, and slaughtered anyone he ran into. That some human guardians, long serving humans from Tahlia's pack, happened to be in his proximity is most unfortunate.”
Most unfortunate. A hot tear of frustration runs down Tessa's face before she can stop it.
She remembers Talia’s fragile and haunting recounting of how she barely escaped the crazed Were before coming to Tessa’s aid at a gas station.
The Lanarre who'd been lounging against the thick post moves away from the solid wood to face Laz, eyes going wolfen. “So you're responsible for the prince's female havin
g barely escaped with her life?” His hands bunch into fists.
Oh shit, shit—shit!
With apparently no sense of self-preservation, Laz answers, “Essentially, yes. Praile should have terminated Laurent. Instead, he released him to rampage around, finding whoever he tripped over to slaughter.”
A vein in the Were's temple begins to throb in time with his heartbeat.
Tessa steps in front of Laz.
“Move out of the way, bitch—we have a demonic to kill.”
Tessa goes quarter before her next breath. “Fuck off, fang face.”
“Neil, step down. Control your beast.”
Neil, the Were with long fangs and not much else, turns to his prince.
No words are exchanged, but Tessa gets the backwash of the Alpha's power as he lashes it against Neil like a whip spiked in fire.
The large Were drops to his knees.
“I don't reward deceit, no matter how ugly the truth.” Drek pushes more power over the assembled Lycan, and Tessa goes limp. Laz has no option but to tuck her against him to prevent her from sliding to her knees like the others.
“And Lazarus of Hades has confessed an awful truth.” Drek turns to Laz. “Tell me why we should spare you?”
“I didn't realize I was on trial.” Laz slowly surveys the room, and Tessa doesn't see one pair of neutral eyes staring back.
“You are a demonic. You've killed my Were. You have mated with an Alpha female. Regardless of rogue status or not, Lycan females are rare enough we aren't inclined to let them go.”
Drek gives Tanya a speculative look, and she arranges her body in a pleasing posture.
She makes Tessa ill.
“Though they might lack certain qualities.”
Tessa snorts.
Tanya spares a glare for Drek but, thankfully, says nothing.
Drek returns his attention to Laz. “Why do you admit your duplicity?”
“I want everyone to know that Tessa is my Redemptive. Her existence has freed me from the command of the Master. My compulsion to return to Hades has been lifted. I now have a chance, however slim, to live a life I never imagined possible.”
“And before?” Drek asks slowly.
Laz answers just as slowly, as though the question posed is a stupid one. “Before I had to perform the tasks given to me.”
Neil sneers. “What was that?”
Laz replies, but addresses Drek. “Whatever the Master—or in his absence, Praile—would have of me.”
“The demonic who's skull you crushed?” Drek asks. “The one who nearly killed me?” His eyebrows cock high at his forehead. “Without your healing abilities, even now, I would be dead.”
“Yes.” Lazarusʼs exhale is labored.
The two males stare at each other.
“There is the other matter, my prince,” Bowen interrupts.
Drek's eyes go hard.
“Three of my Lanarre soldiers were found dead, beheaded in the underground parking area of the local hospital in Port Townsend.”
Tessa's eyes rapidly shift between Drek and Bowen. She flares her nostrils.
She doesn't like what she smells. Certainty.
Laz shrugs. “Their loss of life is not by my hand, if that's your inference.”
Drek threads his fingers together. “Their death took place before your arrival here.”
Tessa blinks.
“When Tessa would have been throwing off pheromones with her heat that would have brought every Were within a hundred miles to her side.”
Laz laughs loudly, startling many of the others within the large space. “I don't have a sense of smell like a Lycan. Can't you detect who was responsible for this crime?”
Bowen shakes his head. “The local human police contaminated everything. But there was the residual scent of a female in heat. There is no male alive who wouldn't recognize that smell. It's instinct. And the demonic are scentless.”
“This is ridiculous!” Tessa shouts. “We are going. You gave blood oath. I'm not hanging around for some witch hunt and burnt offering at the stake because you guys think that Laz offed three Lanarres because he's here and available to be condemned.”
“Tessa,” Laz says, but she ignores him, having worked herself up into a head of steam.
“You will stay, or we will kill your demonic... mate,” Bowen says.
Tessa feels the force of his command, and tears of pure frustration claw their way down her face.
Laz looks down at her, quietly telling her to bide her time, while Tanya's soft laughter is acid that's burning the inside of her ears.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jenni
Devin points at the door. “Get out.” She moves so that the couch is between them.
Jenni stands. She knew it was a possibility Devin might freak. Who wouldn't? The story is like a bad fiction novel.
“I'll go,” Jenni says quietly.
Devin scrunches her nose. “Keep the clothes.”
Jenni picks up her purse, arranging the strap across her body. “I'm really sorry,” she whispers.
“It's okay, just go. I got Ella to think about. I can't have a crazy in the house. No offense.”
She just nods. What can Jenni do to defend herself after the stuff she told Devin? Nothing. What would she think if some girl she'd just met told her that stuff.
Jenni would think she needed a straitjacket.
She picks up her hoodie and slips it on. Zipping it up, she takes an experimental whiff. It smells like forest and dirt. Great.
She places her hand on the cheap doorknob, hoping she hasn’t endangered Devin or Ella. What if this Lanarre group comes sniffing around and hurts them?
Adi seemed to think the males were protective of females. Not from what she saw. Not a bit. Maybe Adi's man, Slash, is.
“Wait!” a little voice yells from behind her.
“Stay by Mama, Ella.”
A small foot stomps, and Jenni presses her head to the door, indecision making her pause.
“She eats ice cream for breakfast! I like Jen-Jen. I want Jen-Jen. She's more better than Dar-Dar!”
Jen-Jen. She smiles despite herself.
“No, Ella. Jenni thinks she's a wolf.”
“Cool,” Ella says reverently.
Jenni turns.
Devin glares at her.
“I don't know if others will come looking for me. I might be held responsible for what went down in that parking garage.”
Devin pales before her eyes. “What do ya mean?” She winds her arm around Ella, tucking her tightly against her slim frame.
“I mean that I really am what I said I was. And that I was just... at the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't a plan of mine, you know.”
“You becoming a werewolf?”
“Cool!” Ella repeats, wiggling out of her mother's grip and running to Jenni.
“No!” Devin cries, jumping like a gazelle after Ella. But Ella reaches Jenni first, leaping into her arms.
Jenni catches her.
Big brown eyes peer into her own. “Are you really a woof?”
“A woof?” Jenni asks, a smile stealing over her face.
“Yeah,” she nods vigorously, “a woof.”
Devin meets Jenni's eyes over Ella's shoulder. “She means wolf.”
Jenni nods. “Kinda like a wolf, but not all the time.” At least that's what I assume.
“Can I see your teethies?”
Jenni nods and opens her mouth.
Ella touches each tooth, appearing disappointed as she gingerly explores the interior of Jenni's mouth. “I don't see nothinʼ sharp.”
Jenni's laugh is muffled with the small fingers in her mouth.
“Don't be telling her stuff like that.” Devin crosses her arms over her skinny chest.
Gently, Jenni lowers Ella to the floor, but the little girl clings to her legs.
“I don't know what's gotten into her. She never takes to people like this.”
“I feel honored.”
Devin's tense, eyes full of defiance. “Well, I don't.”
Jenni tries to reason with her. “Listen, what happened with Bray? How do you explain that?”
Devin stares at her then eventually drops her eyes. “You got me there. I can't. It was weird, how you handled them.” Her chin hikes. “How you dodged bullets...”
“And carried you most of the way here.”
“You carried my mama?” Ella grins.
Jenni looks down and sees round brown eyes searching her face for an untruth. Keep it simple. “Yes.”
“She's heavy!”
Devin and Jenni laugh. “Thanks, Boo—every woman's dream phrase.”
“Boo?”
“Mama calls me Boo because it keeps the ghosts away.”
Jenni puts her hands on her hips. “And I shouldn't be telling Ella about being a werewolf?”
Devin blushes. “Okay, so don't judge, but she used to have nightmares about ghosts. I told her that if I called her Boo once a day, the ghosts would get scared and not come around.”
“Not too bad.” Jenni grins.
Devin's smile is slow, but Jenni's glad to see it. She ducks her head. “Yeah.”
A few seconds pass in silence. “You still want me to beat feet?”
“No,” Devin admits sheepishly. “You just threw me. That story.” She gives a little shrug with one shoulder.
“So you believe me?”
Devin regards her for a moment. “I don't know. But I like you. Ya helped me, and I can tell you've had a hard life.”
Jenni can't refute that observation.
Ella makes the most of the awkward situation and tows Jenni away from the door then pushes her back down on the couch. “There,” she says, carefully arranging Jenni's legs in front of her.
“Bossy little thing,” Jenni comments, amusement curling her lips.
Devin laughs. “You've got no idea.”
“Let me see whatchya got in your purse?” Ella tugs at it.
Jenni takes the strap over her head and unzips the top.
“Look at this!” Ella squeals in glee, eyeballing all the zippers for different compartments within the main body of the handbag.
“There's no killer meds or something in there, is there?”
Jenni looks at Devin. “Nope.”
Devin's shoulders slump in clear relief. “Good.”
They look at each other.
Redemptive Blood Page 14
