“Then act like it.” Carrick hit the end button and shoved his phone in his pocket. He paced faster, forcing himself to work off his anger before returning to Jillian.
She was waiting when he entered the tunnels. She’d braided her dark hair¸ and the tail of the braid hung over one shoulder. “I didn’t realize you and Quinn were so close.” She pushed off the wall and moved toward him. “Most people are afraid to talk to him like that. He’d castrate them.” She studied him for a moment, considering. “You’re around the same age. Did you grow up together?”
He tensed, his pride singed. Their kind aged well. Although he was fast approaching thirty-eight, his body looked a decade younger.
Jillian held up her hands, palms outward, and stepped back. “Calm down. I’m not calling you old. It’s easy to forget how young Quinn is since the other enforcers are so—”
“Old?”
“Exactly.” She shifted her body weight, peering behind him into the cavern. “It seems wrong to leave her there.”
“We don’t have a choice,” he said, following her gaze. “It’s a crime scene, so it’s Quinn’s call. Our job is to keep it quiet.”
“The only way to do that is to block off the tunnels. The others will want to come down and run before the Claiming. Even if Quinn takes the body out, they’ll smell her.” She yawned, covering it quickly with her palm. He wondered if she had slept since their night together. He hadn’t.
“The ceremonies are in two days. The others won’t have time to run; they’ll be preparing. They’ll have to wait until we’re inside.” He ran a hand through his newly shorn hair. Thoughts of the Claiming made him ill. If he had to watch Jillian and Lucas together, he’d be lucky if he came out sane.
“The Claiming here won’t be what you’re used to,” Jillian said. “The Conclave’s mandate that it take place underground makes it difficult because our land is limited. Your Pride kept the majority of the island. Our underground fortress is tiny compared to yours. Pack in all the bodies and there will barely be room to walk unimpeded, much less run.”
Carrick groaned. This was going to be bad. Not only did he have to watch his brother with his mate, but he’d be left with no outlet for his aggression. God, he hoped he didn’t kill someone. For about sixty seconds, he’d thought he could be the bigger person. Respect that she’d chosen Lucas and walk away.
He’d been wrong. He knew the threat, maybe better than she did. But, despite Quinn’s dire warnings, there was another choice. Her Pride was strong. They could survive the wrath of the Conclave long enough to rally the pure-blood Prides to their side. Most of the pure-bloods were wary of the half-bloods, but they were also irate with the Conclave and their abuse of power. War was brewing and this might as well be the start.
“Don’t give in to Quinn. Take me as your mate, and I’ll protect your Pride from the Conclave. Lucas can find someone else at the Claiming, and they can take over as Alpha. We’ll back them up as enforcers. The Conclave is bluffing. They don’t have the balls to wipe out the half-bloods in your Pride. Even if they tried, we could put up a hell of a fight. We might even win.”
“The half-bloods won’t follow Lucas. They won’t follow anyone who isn’t strong enough to keep them in line. We won’t need to start a war; without a strong leader, it’ll be a blood bath. The Prides will kill each other.”
“Your father was a pure-blood and they respected him. Lucas is more than capable.”
Jillian tried to find the words that would make him understand. “They respect Lucas, but they still hate him. If he takes over without me, every dominant in the Pride will challenge him. There’s a pretty good chance one of half-bloods will beat him. Some of them are incredibly strong. If one of them kills Lucas and takes over the Pride, it will be mass pandemonium. That’s why Quinn’s solution is the only one that works.”
“No, it’s not. If we stick around, we can take out the opposing dominants and protect Lucas’s rule.”
“While undermining his authority. The Alpha has to be the strongest cat in the Pride or the others won’t respect them. You fight Lucas’s battles and they’ll look to you as Alpha, not him.”
“So, what? You think you’re stronger than Lucas? That they will respect you?”
“They’ve always feared me. My father made sure of it. And I can hold my own.” A part of Jillian wanted to show him just how strong she really was, but he needed to trust her without a demonstration.
“No offense, Jillian. I know your bloodline is one of the most powerful of our kind, but Lucas is at least as strong as your father. He can control the half-bloods. There’s never been a female Alpha. What makes you think they’ll follow you?”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we? But what does it matter? The Conclave has spoken. We either comply or they kill us. What you’re proposing would start a war. We’d have to be on our guard constantly, looking over our shoulders. What kind of life is that?”
“It’s called freedom. And we deal with the consequences.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. “We’re not alone in this. The Conclave is out of control and has been for years. The other North American Prides will back us once they realize the Conclave is turning its back on our laws.”
Jillian shook her head. “You’re thinking with your heart, not your head. If we go against the Conclave, we’ll be wiped out before we can ask for help. Our rebellion will be swept under the rug and smothered in anti-half-blood propaganda.” She paused. “We can’t win.”
“No. You can’t.”
Jillian jumped back with a shriek as Quinn materialized beside them. Carrick swallowed his shock. Only pure-blood lions who came from Shaman bloodlines could use magic. And Quinn did not. Using his magic to transport was a risk Carrick had never imagined Quinn would take, especially around Jillian, who wasn’t his biggest fan. Being a half-blood was his most heavily guarded secret. Carrick had found out by accident years ago, and Quinn had tried to kill him. The battle had been a draw. Carrick had kept Quinn’s secret anyway. No one, not even Quinn, deserved to be judged based on their race or species. If the Conclave found out, Quinn would be banished. Regulators were supposed to come from clean stock, and half-bloods were tainted. It never ceased to amaze him that such bigotry existed, but as ridiculous as it was, it was the way of the world—for now.
“So, you’re a freak too.” Jillian eyed him cautiously. “I’d think you’d be more understanding.”
“I am.” Quinn stepped forward. “But I’m smart enough to understand that the only way we’re going to win this battle is to fight it from the inside.”
Jillian shook her head. “That’s your opinion. Your Conclave could lose both Prides over this. What if they’d rather go rogue than give in to your demands? The Conclave can’t kill us all. The other Prides would be outraged. You could end up with anarchy.”
“Won’t happen.” Quinn lifted his nose, sniffed, then turned toward the cave that held the body. “The Alphas are in the Conclave’s pockets, and the rest of the cats follow like sheep.”
“You’re wrong.” Carrick moved to Jillian’s side. “That may have been true a few years ago. But the Alphas are fed up. It won’t take much to turn the tide against you.”
“Is that a threat?” Quinn stepped toward them. “Don’t push it, Carrick. If your brother wasn’t Alpha, you’d be cast out.”
“Why? Because I’m a half-blood?”
Jillian gasped. “That’s why you won’t let us be together? God forbid two half-bloods rule a Pride. The world might end.” She turned to Carrick. “If you were a pure-blood, you’d be Alpha, wouldn’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” But he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Lucas deserves the position. He’s been groomed for it.”
Her mind whirled. Not only had the Conclave stripped him of any chance to mate, they’d taken away his right to rule.
“Leave it alone. Lucas is Alpha. End of discussion.”
She let it go for now, but the conversation was far from over. “Fine.�
�� She turned to Quinn. “What are you going to do about the body?”
“I’ll take care of it.” He turned his back on her, walking into the cave.
She started to follow, but Carrick grabbed her arm, holding her back. “Let him go.”
She shrugged him off. “I’m going back to the house.”
“Right behind you.”
It was near dusk as they made their way back. The house was dark, not a single light illuminated the rows of windows, but someone had left the French doors open. The cool night breeze followed them inside the parlor, drifting beneath the cream-colored curtains. The thin material danced across the empty room, playing in the light from the fireplace and casting shadows on the wooden floor.
“We were gone longer than I thought.” Jillian trailed her fingers across the back of the couch as she walked into the room. Her world was spinning off-kilter, and she wasn’t sure how to stop it. She sighed and sank onto the thick leather sofa. “At one point, there were almost twenty people living in this house.” She leaned back and closed her eyes, remembering. “Reginald kicked everyone out. Said he wanted the privacy. The last few years before I left, it was just the two of us.”
“Rumor is he abused you. Why did you put up with it?” He crossed to the fireplace, crouching before the flames. “You’re stronger than him.”
“He’s my father.”
“He gave your mother sperm. That doesn’t make him a father.” He stood, turning to face her. “And you ran away. Why didn’t you fight back?”
It was an honest question. But one she couldn’t answer. She wasn’t ready to tell all her secrets, so she shrugged and plastered a false smile on her face. “I wanted more, and I was never going to get it here. So I left.”
“Maybe you could have. Did you try?” He moved toward her, his large body blocking the light from the fire. He didn’t stop until he was leaning over her, his hands gripping the back of the couch on either side of her shoulders.
He was too close. She was suffocating in the heat of his body. Growling, her beast close to the surface, she slapped at his makeshift cage. With a wry smile, he released her, settling beside her on the narrow couch. “You’ve never been skittish around me. What’s changed?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She tried to laugh off the question, but the sound came out more like a snort. “Let’s see. We had sex, found out we were mates, and now I’m supposed to bind myself to your brother.” She paused. “And don’t forget someone is trying to kill me, and we found a dead body.”
“It’s a lot.”
“You’re damn straight.”
He leaned forward, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. “I’m going to talk to Lucas. We’ll find a way to get out of this.”
She slapped his hand away. “Maybe I don’t want to get out of it. This isn’t just about us. They’ll wipe out my Pride. I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Think about it logically. Your Pride is full of powerful shifters. I know you lost a lot of your dominants, but odds are they’ll come back now that Reginald is gone. Being a lone rogue these days is too big a risk. You’ll have enough juice to hold off the Conclave. The worst they could do is banish the Pride, make them rogues. Even then, you’d still be a Pride, just not one recognized by the Conclave.”
“The Pride won’t go for it.”
“They will if the alternative is death.” He grabbed her hand.
“And what? Live happily ever after until the Conclave wipes us out? They don’t forget, Carrick. They’ll make us pay.” She stood, moving to the other side of the room.
“So, we just pretend there’s nothing between us? Forget we’re mates and go on about our lives.” Using his body, he herded her toward the wall until she was trapped against it. The hard muscles of his chest brushed her breasts, and damn it if she didn’t want to lean into him and savor the feel. She had to take a few long breaths to refocus. The lion inside her began to purr. Jillian wanted to smack her.
“What if our roles were reversed? If I was being forced to bond with your sister? How would it feel to watch me touch her, to know I’d be in her bed instead of yours?”
She tried to shrug, but it looked more like a spasm. “If it meant saving lives, I wouldn’t have a choice.”
“Damn it, Jillian. That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” She tried to push him away, but he only moved closer.
His eyes filled with fire. “That you’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”
“I’m not a possession. And you don’t get a choice.” For the first time since they’d met, she released the full force of her power, shoving him across the room. “I’m choosing Lucas.”
Stunned, he stared at her, mouth hanging open. When he recovered from his shock, he growled and stalked toward her. “No, you’re not, at least not willingly.” He sniffed the air. “I can smell how much you want me.
She turned and opened the French doors. “I’m done talking. I want you to leave.”
He didn’t move, except for the slow smile that began to curl his lips. “No.”
“Fine.” If he wanted to fight, they’d fight. She slammed the door so hard the wall shook from the force. Giving her magic free rein, she wrapped it tightly around her, an impenetrable force field. “We’re done, Carrick. Over. The bell tolled, or whatever. Why are you making this so hard?”
“Why aren’t you?” He moved forward. “I spent the last four years thinking I was lusting after a human. Waking up at night soaked in sweat and hard as a brick for a woman I could never touch. I’m not giving you up without a fight.”
“You won’t win.” She stopped in the middle of the room, her anger deflated. “If I don’t choose you, you don’t get me. End of discussion.”
“No. Damn it.”
“One night. That’s what we agreed. No promises were given. So, I’ve got a tattoo. Big deal. It’s not enough to die for.”
“It’s more than that, and you damn well know it.”
The fire highlighted the sharp angles of his face and, for a moment, she was tempted. But she had to be smart, play this the right way. The whole thing was just a little too convenient. The odds were slim she would have left home only to run straight into the arms of her enemy’s son. Maybe it could be attributed to the Fates, or maybe it was just good old manipulation. There were too many Alphas itching to overthrow the Conclave, and their current situation could be the trigger that set off a war. Right now, she didn’t trust anyone, even Carrick. There would be consequences regardless of what she chose. And she wasn’t going to choose her own happiness over the lives of the Pride.
She needed space so she could think things through. She covered her mouth with her hand and faked a yawn. “You can stay if you want, but I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.” She moved into the hallway, leaving him to fend for himself.
“What about me?” he called.
“What about you? There’s a couch right there. But if I were you, I’d go back to the cabin and stay with Quinn. You’re not well liked here. If you’re asleep and one of the enforcers finds you…” She shrugged. “Your choice.”
“Thanks. Glad you’re concerned.” He glanced at the couch with distaste. “You’ve got at least twelve bedrooms in this monstrosity. It wouldn’t kill you to show me to one. I’d prefer yours.”
“You’re not sleeping with me.”
“Why not?” He stepped closer. “May be our last chance. Quinn said to get this—,” he waved a hand in the air, “—out of our systems. I can’t think of a better way.”
She snorted; she couldn’t help herself. “I can. We avoid each other.”
“Not possible.” He leaned against the wall, a half-smile on his lips. “We’re about to be locked underground together.”
“You’ll have to admire me from a distance.” She shook her head. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I want you, Carrick.” Her beast sprang up with anticipation. “In another life, we would be together. The marks would be e
nough. This time they aren’t.” Deciding it was wiser to ignore than engage, she turned, motioning him to follow. “I’ll find you a bed, but it’s not going to be mine.”
She didn’t look to see if he had followed; she didn’t need to. The heat of his body wrapped around her as they moved across the floor to the stairwell. It sank inside to sweep across the beast, leaving her purring with need. The more Jillian tried to ignore it, the stronger the need became. There was no way she was sleeping tonight, even if she put him in the room farthest away.
As she walked past the wide mahogany door that led to her bedroom, something made her stop. The smell of residual magic saturated the air around them. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, picking apart the variety of scents. One was unfamiliar. It twined within the normal scents, faint enough to miss had she not been so attune to her environment. Carrick tensed beside her, and she knew he had felt it as well. Someone had breached the sanctity of her room, the only space on the compound where she felt whole.
Carrick shoved her behind him and pushed open the door. She hissed, neither expecting nor appreciating the gesture. Once they stepped inside, she was glad he had gone first. Not a thing was out of place, but the room felt dirty. Tainted. The air was thick with dark magic. It scoured along her skin, reeking of malice so intense it made her gag.
She was almost to the bed when she caught a glimpse of crimson. A folded note made from red parchment paper lay on the nightstand. It was blank, simply a tease. A red flag flaunting that someone had breached her spells and trampled on her sanctuary.
Carrick took it from her trembling fingers and held it to the light. Walking to the fireplace, he threw it into the fire. It immediately burst into flames, sparking like a firework.
“It was spelled.”
He glanced at her, one brow cocked. “Of course. Couldn’t you feel it?”
She shook her head. “Not really. My magic is more about intuition and power. I don’t have a strong affinity for spell-casting.”
“Really? Wasn’t your mother a witch?”
“Yeah. I was young when she died. She never had the opportunity to teach me.” She walked to the fire and peered inside. “But I do know enough to know whoever left that calling card is a serious threat.”
Dance with the Devil Page 7
