“One of the other half-bloods?”
“Maybe.” She shook her head. “The magic is familiar, but I don’t recognize it. It could be anyone.” She moved over to the bed, stretching her hands above her head. “Either way, the air’s clean. There’s no trace of the spell left, and I need sleep.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to go to sleep.” He paced the room. “Someone broke into your rooms.”
“It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.” She sighed and sank onto the feather bed. “Threats to my life are pretty much par for the course here. If I let it get to me, I’d never sleep.”
“And you still want to save this Pride?”
She watched him, knowing he’d never understand. “They’re not all bad. Yeah, some of them are hateful, but they are all I have. This is my family, bad seeds and all. They don’t deserve to die.”
“Sounds like some of them do. You need to stand up for yourself, fight back.”
She rolled her eyes. “Last time I was here, I killed one of them. I’d say that’s fighting back.”
Carrick leaned forward until their foreheads pressed together. “And it broke you, so you ran away. You’ve got to get tough or leading the Pride is going to wear you down.”
“I’m not weak.”
“Never said you were. Just offering some advice.” He moved closer. “We’d be a hell of a team.”
She pushed him away. “Seriously? A minute ago, you described me like I was a frightened child.”
He grinned. “You’re a lot of things, but not a child. And if anyone comes after you, I’ll kill them.” He closed the distance between them.
She rolled her eyes. “’Cause that’s always the answer.” But she was unable to resist his pull. She leaned into him, letting the heat of his body play across her skin as she drank him in.
Carrick sighed. He trailed his hands down her back, then wrapped his arms around her waist. “We can change things. Make them better.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It could be.” He brushed his face against her cheek, pushing her hair away so they were skin to skin. His hand slid down her hip, one finger notched in her waistband, dragging the soft material down her body.
She swallowed, licking her suddenly dry lips, but she didn’t stop him as her pants cleared her hips, falling to the floor. “The door isn’t closed.”
He laughed, burying his face against her skin. “I don’t care.” His mouth trailed along the tender side of her neck, licking and nipping the smooth expanse of her shoulder as his free hand trailed perilously close to her breast. A groan slipped from her lips as she shifted in his embrace.
This was a bad idea. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why.
Their mouths met in a crush of wet heat. Desire slammed through Jillian, rendering her near senseless as she tasted him. His lips were salty from the run, but his mouth tasted of home. Greedily, she thrust her tongue inside, eager and yearning for more. She didn’t protest as his hand swept around her ass, lifting her against the hard length of him. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held on.
Then she heard it.
A cough. And not a subtle one.
Quinn was hacking his brains out where he stood leaning against the door frame.
Carrick hissed. Easing her down his hard body, the rub of flesh on flesh nearly sending her over the edge, he lowered her to the floor.
Quinn stepped into the room, his coughing fit now miraculously under control. He stopped in front of the fire, one arm resting on the mantle. “I examined the body. It’s not one of yours.”
“You can’t know that.” Jillian crossed her arms. “You’re here, what, maybe two weeks out of the year?”
Quinn narrowed his gaze. “Despite what you think, I keep tabs on this Pride. And she didn’t belong to it.” He glanced at Carrick. “I’d say she’s from out west. She’s got some tribal tattoos on her arms.”
“And her murderer?” Jillian asked.
Quinn shifted his gaze. “Oh, he’s definitely one of Reginald’s. Probably a dominant with some anger issues.”
“I’m glad you think this is a joke.” Jillian walked over to the bed and sat. “A woman’s dead.”
Quinn pushed away from the mantle and stepped in front of her. “She’s not the first, or even the second.” The fire blazed behind him, highlighting his lean frame. “I’m pushing up the ceremonies. We’ll get everyone underground tomorrow. I want Carrick to find him.”
“And kill him,” Carrick finished.
Quinn shrugged. “It’s the way of the world.”
Chapter Six
“You do realize someone is trying to kill her?” Carrick asked as he followed Quinn down the stairs to the lower level. “I don’t care how strong she is. She needs round-the-clock protection. The last time they attacked, she would have died if I hadn’t found her.”
Quinn stopped and shoved his hand in the back pocket of his jeans. Pulling out a brand-new phone, he tossed it to Carrick. “Call Lucas. He won’t mind looking after her.”
Carrick caught the phone, about a second away from pouncing on the other man. It wasn’t Lucas she needed—she needed him. And he needed her…desperately. His body was rock hard and covered in sweat from trying to hold back his beast. It had been nearly impossible to leave her bedroom.
“You can’t have her, Carrick. There are more important things at issue than your primal urges. Get your head on straight.” Quinn shook his head before continuing down the stairs. “There are no secrets in the Pride. You sleep with your brother’s future mate, you undermine his ability to rule. Their arrangement has to be ironclad. No one can know it wasn’t by choice.”
“My so-called primal urges are a hell of a lot more important than your politics, and make a whole lot more sense. Lucas deserves to find his own mate. You’re screwing with lives, just to forward an agenda.”
Quinn turned, taking the steps two at a time until they were face-to-face. “You of all people should understand why I’m doing this,” he hissed. “If Anthony hadn’t taken you in, we’d have found you dead in the street. Your mother’s coven was trying to kill you, and so were the pure-bloods.” He shoved him away. “Think about all the children who weren’t so lucky. As long as half-bloods are viewed as a threat, they’ve got no chance at a real life.”
“You’re wrong.” Carrick pushed past him. “I’ve got a damn good life, and so do you.”
“Yeah. Because no one knows what we are. If they found out—,” he brushed his hands together, “—it would all be gone. This is the first opportunity we’ve had to combine half-bloods into a functional Pride. If it works, it could sway the opinion of the Conclave.”
“And they’d consider us equals?” Carrick snorted. “You’re delusional. All it’s going to do is make them realize they were right all along. Half-bloods as a whole are stronger. If they get the chance, they’ll take over the Prides. And if the Conclave doesn’t pull its head out of its ass, the half-bloods are going to rebel and all hell’s going to break loose.”
“The Conclave has agreed to give these half-bloods full shifter rights if they cooperate. It’ll set a new precedent.”
“Yeah. Conform and be like us, or we’ll kill you. Some precedent.” He stepped into the foyer. “It doesn’t matter. Right now, all I care about is keeping Jillian safe. She needs guards.”
“She has them. Gareth and Abbey are staying with her tonight.” Quinn grabbed his leather jacket from a hook beside the front door. “She’ll be fine.”
“Are they strong enough?”
Quinn shrugged. “They don’t have to be. Jillian can protect the three of them. All they have to do is keep alert and identify the threat.”
“You can’t possibly know that.” Carrick turned back to the stairs, but Quinn stopped him.
“Don’t underestimate Jillian. There’s blood on those lily-white hands.” He released Carrick’s arm and stepped back. “The first time
I met her, she was standing over the dead body of a dominant male she’d just killed.”
“He tried to rape her.”
Quinn nodded. “I know. Her father planned it. Chose the dominant he wanted to succeed him and paid him to rape his daughter until she was pregnant. He figured the Conclave would force them to mate.”
Carrick cursed. The whole thing made him sick. He’d heard about the attempted rape, and that Reginald was a bastard, but he’d never imagined he would sink to that level of depravity. “Was he insane?”
“Yes. But we didn’t realize it until it was too late. The Conclave didn’t interfere when the Prides split because we assumed your father would wipe out Reginald’s Pride. When that didn’t happen, they wanted to take them out, but the risk of human discovery was too high by then. Reginald had too many contacts on the outside. Someone would have come looking.”
“He underestimated Jillian. It was the final straw, why she ran away.” The pieces were starting to come together.
Quinn shook his head. “She was more afraid of herself than him. When I found her, she’d ripped that lion’s head clean off. I’ll never forget the look on her face. She walked over to me, handed me the head and told me she was leaving.”
“Why were you there?” Carrick leaned against the banister. Quinn wasn’t telling him everything. “It’s a pretty big coincidence.”
“I’d been watching from a distance. I knew Reginald was up to something, but I didn’t figure it out until it was too late. Thankfully, Jillian’s tough. The attack on her life and the intruder in her room prove she’s going to have a battle ahead of her when she takes over the Pride. At least with Lucas on board, she’s got a chance. He’s established his reputation on the island. The half-bloods don’t like him, but they respect him. And they fear Jillian, with good reason.” He grinned. “Try not to piss her off. It might not end well.”
“I’ll remember that.” Carrick stepped onto the porch. The cool night air circled him, cooling his heated flesh. “Why make her lead? There’s no way she wants to stay here.”
“It’s her birthright.” Quinn pulled his keys from his front pocket and unlocked the tiny red sports car parked in the semicircle. “And it’s the best option. The majority of the Conclave was ready to string up her Pride. They’re afraid. The half-bloods are growing in power. They’ve turned into a threat that needs to be neutralized.” He stopped, turning to face Carrick. “You and Jillian together would send them over the edge. Two of the most powerful half-bloods in the country ruling a powerful Pride. Even if you managed to survive, they’d never leave you alone.”
“They wouldn’t win. Most of the other Prides would take our side. They hate the Conclave more than the half-bloods.”
“Maybe.” Quinn shrugged. “But what if they don’t? Is it worth the risk?”
They both knew the answer. He’d take the risk in a heartbeat.
All he had to do was convince Jillian.
It had been over an hour since Carrick left, and Jillian hadn’t moved. Lying across the bed, she’d counted the grooves in the crown molding nearly a hundred times. But it was time to deal with life. She rolled onto her stomach and grabbed the glass of Bailey’s on the nightstand. Abbey knew her poison.
“Pansy ass.” Gareth stepped inside the room. “Drink whiskey like a real man.”
“I have breasts and am, therefore, entitled to creamy beverages and pink umbrellas.” She raised the glass in salute, then took a long drink and slammed the empty glass on the bedside table. “And my pansy ass can kick your manly ass any day.”
“She’s got a point,” Abbey said from the doorway. She had changed into a pair of worn boxer shorts and a thin white camisole. “We’re your security detail.” She jumped onto the bed. “Quinn’s orders.”
“You’re my guards?” Jillian stood, stretching her arms above her head to ease her stiff muscles. “You realize that means you can’t hide behind me if we’re attacked?”
Abbey shook her head. “Wrong. We’re special.” She paused, grinning. “You protect us.”
Gareth stepped farther into the room, his beast close to the surface. It had jumped to attention when Abbey had entered the room. That was new. Some things had changed in the three years she’d been gone. Either that, or the anticipation of the upcoming Claiming was wearing on him.
“It’s a crap tradition,” Jillian said, half to herself.
Gareth flung himself in front of the fire, all grace and muscle. “What is?”
“The Claiming. Keep up.” Abbey tossed a pillow at him, grinning. “Mom told me it’s supposed to let us explore our true natures away from the humans.”
“How is humping like bunnies and waiting to see if you’re marked exploring our true natures?” Gareth snorted. “The purpose isn’t to commune with your beast. It’s to get laid and find your mate.”
Abbey rolled her eyes. “Sex as a death sentence. Sounds enticing.”
“Mating isn’t the same as dying.” Gareth growled, coming up on his haunches. “There are worse things.”
“Such as?” Abbey flung herself back on the bed. “Stuck with one person for the rest of your life. Sounds horrible.”
“Nice.” Gareth jumped to his feet. “Guess you’ll have to take one for the team. Quinn wants us all mated and in neat little pairs before we step out of the pit.” He paused. “That means you too.”
“Since when are you so gung-ho to ante up?” Abbey stretched, arching her back as she eyed him cautiously. “Got someone in mind?”
Jillian licked her lips and sat at attention. It was getting interesting.
“Is it that little redhead you’ve been sniffing around?” The jealousy in Abbey’s voice was unmistakable. “She’s part wolf, part cat. How is that even possible? Aren’t you worried about genetic defects?”
Gareth bared his teeth, his beast slamming against the surface. “Her name is Anna. Be nice to her. She’s been through a lot.”
Abbey’s eyes widened. “You’re serious about her, aren’t you?”
“She’s a friend.” He crossed over to the bed, settling behind Jillian.
“So at least you’d know each other first. And you like her,” Jillian said.
“Somebody sounds bitter,” Abbey replied. “Something we should know?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you. Or Quinn would.” She tossed back the shot of whiskey Gareth handed her. “But soon…very soon.”
“That sounds ominous.” Gareth took back the shot glass and slammed it on the table. “I can guess. If you’re going to be Alpha, there’s no way the Conclave would let you pick your own mate.”
Abbey sat up, eyeing them both. “What are you talking about?”
Jillian sat up. “Gareth didn’t tell you?”
“No. What?”
“After the Claiming, no more Reginald. He’s getting banished, and I’m his replacement.”
“Are you serious?” Abbey asked. “Establishing your authority will be a blood fest.”
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Gareth asked. “They chose your mate. Was it one of the dominants Quinn called in?”
“Nope. A little closer to home than that, but I beat him to the punch.” Jillian lifted her hips to pull down her sweats. The mark gleamed in the firelight. “I already found my own.”
“Holy crap.” Abbey jumped to the ground. “How the hell did you do that? You haven’t even been here.”
“I have my ways.” Jillian wiggled her eyebrows. “I had one late-night rendezvous with my boss. Turns out he’s my mate.”
“That’s crazy.” Abbey sank to the floor. “Who is he? Are you going to keep him?”
Gareth sighed. “He’s not a pet. And it’s Lucas’s brother. She banged him before I came to pick her up.”
“And you still left?” Abbey stared at her in amazement.
Jillian shifted, uncomfortable. “I didn’t know.” She paused. “Besides, he’s—”
“A gorgeous piece of man-flesh who is probably incredi
ble in bed and—”
“Watch it,” Jillian cut her off. Gareth growled, his hand slamming into the bed at his side.
Abbey merely shrugged. “I’m just saying. You could do worse.” She jumped up and walked to the wide cherry cabinet near the corner of the room. Pulling open one door, she pulled out a bottle of vodka and three shot glasses. Arranging the glasses in a neat row, she filled them with the clear liquid.
“Doesn’t matter because the Conclave says no. They’ve already made arrangements for me to mate with Lucas.”
“Lucas?” Abbey screeched. “His brother? That sucks. What are you going to do?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I have a choice. Either I mate with Lucas and we combine the Prides, or the Conclave wipes us out.”
“All right then.” Abbey picked up the glasses and handed them out. “All the more reason to get shit-faced. When there are no good choices,” she held up her glass, “we drink and deal with it tomorrow.”
Why the hell not? Jillian put a warding spell around the room to protect them from harm. She deserved a night off. It was probably the last one she’d get for a while.
Jillian pulled herself off the bed. Gareth groaned, but followed. Holding the shot glass to the light, Jillian swirled the liquid and watched it play in the firelight. The vodka burned as it slid down her throat and pooled in her belly. As did the next shot, and the next. By the time the fire died, the bottle was empty and they were sprawled in a pile on the floor. The next day would be a bitch, but a feeling of belonging wrapped around her like a toasty blanket on a cold winter night and made it worth it.
Carrick was aware of Lucas even before he stepped into the cabin. His brother had never been able to mask his emotions. Today was no different. They danced in his aura like a thousand tiny fireworks. Carrick paused in the doorway. He wasn’t ready to face Lucas. Hell, he’d never be ready. They’d always been close, but one wrong word and this could tear them apart.
“Get your ass in here. I’ve got whiskey,” Lucas called from the other room.
Dance with the Devil Page 8
