Dance with the Devil

by Angela Dennis

  Gareth started to speak, but Abbey shot him a scathing look. “We did what we needed to do, just like you did.” She looked at the doorway behind Jillian. “Where’s Carrick?”

  “He went after Sean,” Jillian said. “I hope it’s not him. I always thought he was a good guy.”

  “He was,” Gareth said. He walked over to them, settling on the floor at their feet. “But he’s been a little off the past few years. Turned into a recluse.”

  “That doesn’t make him a murderer,” said Jillian. “And now I have to go after Fiona. Secure her until we know who is behind this.”

  Abbey jerked up and almost made Jillian lose her balance. “I’ll deal with her. I’ve always wanted to wring her scrawny little neck.”

  “You may get the chance.” Jillian jumped to her feet. “I’ll need your help. The poison kicked my ass. I didn’t get as much as Carrick, but I’m still not a hundred percent. I don’t want to accidentally kill her if I lose my temper. You know how unstable I can be when I’m in pain.”

  “Oh, definitely,” Abbey teased. “But you’ll need to change. Last I checked, a shift dress and flip-flops weren’t appropriate for ass-kicking.”

  Gareth shook his head. “You’ve got an outfit for everything.”

  “Me?” Abbey grinned. “Of course. You’ve gotta work with what you’ve got.”

  Jillian rolled her eyes. “Fine. Give me a second. I’ll be right back.” She started to walk toward the bedroom, then turned back. “Where’s Zoe? She agreed to bunk with us, but I haven’t seen her.”

  Abbey shrugged. “I saw her go into Lucas’s room after your big announcement, so I wouldn’t worry.”

  Jillian sighed. At least something had gone right. She didn’t hurry to the bedroom; in fact, she slowed her pace. Not a single part of her was looking forward to returning to where she had almost lost Carrick. Thinking about it made her sick. But one good thing had come from the experience. It had forced her to come to terms with her feelings. She had been such an idiot. She had no idea how she’d missed the huge, glaring fact that she was in love with him until it was almost too late.

  They’d known each other for three years, and every second of every day he’d been in her thoughts. A little stalkerish, but probably okay since he was her soul mate. Especially since she had no intention of turning into the type of woman who lived solely for her man. There was more to life. But she did want to share that life with Carrick.

  She hesitated, her hand gripping the doorknob. Something felt off, but she didn’t know what.

  It was probably nothing, just her overactive imagination. Shaking it off, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was a mess. There were bed sheets all over the floor, and the clothes she’d worn earlier were in pieces on the bed.

  She bent down, grabbed one of the sheets and pressed it against her face, breathing in Carrick’s scent. The cat inside her purred, yearning for her mate. Jillian agreed. He could be annoying as hell, but she still wanted to find him, grab him and never let go.

  Disgusted with herself, she dropped the sheet. When had she become so co-dependent?

  She kicked off her pink flip-flops and sat on the side of the bed. When she leaned forward to unbutton her dress, she suddenly felt uneasy. Someone was watching her, and, if she had to bet, she was pretty sure they were in the closet. Their presence was barely discernable, but her senses had been honed by far too many years spent in fear for her life. If she concentrated hard enough, she could trace the scent.

  Fiona.

  Pretending nonchalance, she stood and walked to the nightstand. Opening the top drawer, she slipped her hands inside and unsheathed the knife within. Once the blade was free, she hid it against her body as she walked across the room.

  She was at the foot of the bed, the handle of the blade gripped tightly in her left hand, when something grabbed her ankle and jerked. Caught unaware, she slammed to the floor, barely escaping her own knife. She grabbed for the rug, the chair, anything, in an attempt to gain purchase. Whatever had hold of her was pulling her too quickly. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get free.

  “I’d save your strength, Princess.” Fiona stepped from the closet, a gun in her hand.

  Ignoring her, Jillian kicked at the monster under the bed. This time, she managed to make contact, and it released her with a loud yelp. Scrambling to her feet, she moved to the edge of the room and faced Fiona. “I can smell your fear. You know you won’t get away with this. Abbey and Gareth are right outside.”

  Fiona laughed as she moved forward. “Sean took care of them. They won’t be a problem.”

  Jillian schooled her features. “What did he do?”

  “It’s not them I’d be worried about.” Leo, the enforcer whose ass she’d kicked in front of the entire Claiming, crawled from beneath the bed.

  “I should just shoot her.” Fiona cocked the pistol and centered it on Jillian’s chest.

  “That’s not the plan.” Leo paced beside the bed. “Sean said not to do anything until he gets here.”

  “But I want to shoot her,” she whined, her finger tickling the trigger.

  Jillian ignored them. Their fear was palpable. They weren’t going to do a damn thing without consulting Sean. And she wasn’t going to stand around waiting for him. Since Leo was already hurt, she started with him. Lunging, she plowed her foot into his chest. He had been coming at her, but now he flew backward, flipping over the bed and landing with a hard thud.

  “Stop it!” Fiona screamed. She fired off a shot, but, thankfully, she had poor aim. The bullet ricocheted off the wall, nicked Jillian’s shoulder, then plowed into the ground. Jillian was on her before she could pull off another. The gun flew across the room, hitting the floor with a thud.

  When Sean stepped inside the room, Jillian had a death grip on Fiona’s neck. “Come any closer and I’ll rip her head off.” She moved across the room, using Fiona as a shield. They reached the pistol, and she kicked it behind her for easier access.

  “Well, that’d be a crazy kind of déjà vu.” Sean grinned. “Do it. I don’t care.”

  “I’m your sister,” Fiona whined.

  “You’re a nut bag.” Sean walked over to Leo, helping him to his feet. “And you’re useless.” Fast as lightning, he grabbed the other lion, twisting his neck until it broke.

  Jillian was so shocked she almost let go of Fiona. “Sean, why are you doing this?”

  He ignored her, motioning to his sister. “You going to kill her or not? You don’t, I will.”

  There was no way she could let Fiona go. With no other feasible choice, Jillian grabbed the pistol and slammed it into Fiona’s skull to knock her unconscious. She slid to the floor, and Jillian stepped over her. “Guess it’s just you and me.”

  As she moved closer, she realized Sean’s hands were covered with blood. She couldn’t think about Gareth and Abbey, not now. They could still be alive. She had to save herself, or she wouldn’t be able to save them. She moved closer to Sean, thinking of all the ways she was going to make him hurt. “You touch me and Carrick will rip you apart,” she warned. “You won’t accomplish anything by killing me. I’ve claimed Carrick as my mate. He’ll rule in my place.”

  “Nope.” Sean walked along the bed, trailing his fingers across the silk sheets. “Until you and Carrick perform the bonding ritual and make it official, he isn’t really your mate. But it doesn’t matter, because Carrick’s dead. I got to him first.”

  No. Not possible. She would have felt it, felt something.

  “You’re lying. Carrick’s stronger than you, and he had Quinn with him.”

  “You’re right. He was. But sometimes the strongest fighter doesn’t win, the most ingenious does.” He sat on the bed, watching her. “After you almost killed me, I had to find a way to compensate so I could win my place back in the Pride. I’m a pure-blood. I don’t have any magical powers like you freaks, but I pretended to take an interest in a half-blood. It took some convincing, but she taught me
how to work with herbs to create poisons. It’s amazing what a tiny little plant can do.” He rubbed his fingers together. “So much power, right at my fingertips.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  He shrugged. “I’m still going to be Alpha. You can either rule with me, or I can kill you and rule in your place. I’ll give you some time to decide.”

  “I’m not leaving this room with you.” She dropped the gun, crouching to pick up the knife she’d dropped.

  “Jillian, you always make things so damn difficult.” He lunged, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her onto the bed. She slid the knife into his gut and twisted, but he only laughed and tightened his grip. Bucking beneath his grasp, she kicked and twisted, but he only squeezed harder.

  “Keep fighting,” he said, grinning down at her. “It makes it easier. See, I don’t have a pain reflex anymore. Years of suffering can do that to you.”

  But he flinched when she slammed her foot into his groin, and released his grip for a split second. That was all she needed. She flung herself off the bed and raced toward the door. She was in the middle of the room when he caught her, grabbing her calf and pulling her backward.

  “You’re a disappointment, Jillie. I thought you were stronger than this.” He twisted his grip, and her muscles screamed in agony. Kicking him in the face with her free leg, she pushed away from him. She was only free for a moment before she felt a sting on her forearm. She glanced back to see him holding a tiny dart gun, a smirk across his handsome face.

  Almost instantly, the world began to spin, the light from the fire dancing around her until she thought she was going to be sick. The ground came up to meet her. It smashed her right in the face. As the darkness took over, her last thoughts were of Carrick.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jillian woke slowly, taking inventory of her body. She didn’t know what she’d been drugged with, but it was almost impossible to focus. Her brain was a jumbled mess. She tried to move her legs, only to find they were tied to something. Further examination revealed it was a thick metal pole. She didn’t hear Sean, but that didn’t mean anything. He could be anywhere.

  Pushing onto her elbows, she glanced around the room. The walls, floor and ceiling were made of metal. She had to be in the tunnels Quinn had told her about, which meant Quinn or Carrick were down here somewhere. Sean wasn’t strong enough to kill them both. All she needed was to get free and find them. She tugged at the leather straps around her ankles, but they wouldn’t budge.

  “You should rest. Even if you did manage to get free, you wouldn’t get far.” Sean squatted in front of her. She hadn’t heard him approach. Her hearing had been dulled by the drugs.

  “What did you give me?”

  “You don’t want to know.” He slid into a cross-legged position on the ground. For an extended, very uncomfortable moment, he stared at her before leaning back on his hands to face the ceiling. “We don’t have much time, so we should probably talk. You’ve been asleep a while. The Claiming ceremony is today, so you’re going to need to make a decision.”

  “Why are you doing this? You said you forgave me for hurting you. You know I didn’t mean to do it.”

  He laughed and shifted to face her. “That’s not what this is about. You always were clueless. Your father never intended for my brother to be Alpha. Gabe was too weak, too easily led. But you bought right into his story, believed that they plotted to rape you and force you to marry him.”

  “You’re crazy. There’s no denying that’s what they did.” She shifted away from him, more than a little unnerved by the gleam in his eyes.

  “Jillian, you don’t give your father enough credit. You’ve always underestimated him.” Grinning, he leaned forward and stroked her cheek. “He knew you’d kill Gabe. I just had to wait until it was over. You’d run back to the house all distraught and guilt-ridden, and I’d come find you, comfort you. The girl nobody loved would get her knight in shining armor. And I’d get to be Alpha.”

  And in an instant, he shattered her reality. But she should have known, because he was right. She’d never fully accepted the depths of her father’s depravity. Reginald had set her up. He’d wanted her to snap, to kill Gabe and live with that blood on her hands. He’d known what it would do to her, how it would make her feel. To a point, she’d played right into his hands.

  But killing Gabe hadn’t driven her from the Pride—attacking Sean had. She’d considered him a friend, and, in her mind, hurting him had proven she was out of control. If it hadn’t happened, if she had taken Sean’s comfort, she might be living an entirely different life. One planned and manipulated by her father, and she never would have known.

  Suddenly, she started to connect the pieces. “My father’s helping you, isn’t he? That’s how you’ve managed all of this. He’s covering your tracks.”

  “Now you’re getting it,” he said. “I can practically see the lightbulb over your head. What did you expect him to do, wait for Quinn to declare you Alpha and boot him out on his ass?”

  “But why try to kill me in St. Louis?”

  “If you never made it back, Quinn would have had to make someone else Alpha. And I’m the only feasible candidate. The other enforcers are your father’s puppets. Quinn wouldn’t have trusted them.”

  He was a delusional psychopath. No wonder her father liked him. “But isn’t that what you are, his puppet?”

  “I’m no one’s puppet.” He jumped to his feet. She did a partial shift, elongating her nails to tear at her bindings. “I’m not an idiot. I need your father’s help to take control of the Pride. Once I do, he’s gone.”

  “Good luck with that. You can barely walk, and he’s the most powerful lion shifter on the island.” The leather around her ankles began to shred. She just had to keep him distracted a little longer. “And what about the Conclave? They want the Prides combined and the feud to end.”

  “So? I’ll kill the half-bloods myself. And I’m strong enough to kill your father. He’s old and blind. He won’t know what hit him.”

  He unfastened his belt, pulling it through the belt loops. As it hit the floor, he flicked open the button of his jeans, unzipped them and pushed them down his hips. His legs were scarred, but otherwise perfectly normal.

  “What the hell? I maimed you.” She was so shocked she almost didn’t realize her legs were free.

  “That half-blood I told you about, the one who taught me about plants, she was a healer. She worked with me until my legs were better than new. The best part is, no one will expect it. They all think I’m a cripple.”

  He’d planned everything to the littlest detail. It made her head spin. She flexed her ankles to get the blood circulating, and prayed they’d hold her. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. But you forgot one thing.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said, pulling his jeans back up. “All the pieces are in place. This is going to happen.”

  “Nope,” she said. “It’s not. Want to know why?”

  He searched her face, but, thankfully, his gaze didn’t move to her legs. She’d shifted to hide the shredded rope. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Okay.” She shrugged. “But do you want to take that chance? I mean, you’ve worked so hard.”

  “Fine. What did I forget?” He took a step toward her, but he still wasn’t close enough.

  “Come here and I’ll tell you.” Her body tightened, waiting. He couldn’t resist. Curiosity always killed the cat, or, in this case, the lion.

  She leapt, knocking him to the floor with her body. He was twice her size, so she had to move fast, while he was still stunned. Shifting, she slammed her foot into his groin. When he stumbled backward, she pivoted and aimed a kick at his head. But this time he grabbed her ankle, spinning her around until she lost her balance.

  He was on her as soon as she hit the floor. Grabbing her by the hair, he pulled her head back, twisting until she had tears in her eyes. “You think you’re such a badass, don�
�t you?” He punched her in the throat with his free hand. She gagged, the room spinning. “I’m harder to kill than my brother.”

  She gasped and tried to focus. Flipping her body forward, she tore free of him, but a handful of her hair remained behind. On her feet, she spun around. He was bigger, but she had an advantage. She wasn’t a normal shifter. She was a freak.

  She willed her arm to shift. His eyes widened as fur sprouted from her skin and her bones lengthened, her fingers turning to claws. She lunged forward, raking her claws across his throat. Before he recovered, she grabbed his injured neck and squeezed. His eyes bulged, his body convulsing from the lack of oxygen.

  She’d never wanted to kill someone as much as she did in that moment. He deserved it, but she didn’t want his blood on her hands. She’d be no better than he was. So she’d give him to Quinn. He could decide Sean’s fate.

  Sean was near death. She could smell it on him. Once he slipped into unconsciousness, she released him and he fell to the ground. She’d have to wrap his throat or he would die. There was nothing else to use, so she ripped a length of cloth from her dress and bound his wound, applying pressure until the bleeding stopped. She left him on the floor and grabbed some rope, using her claws to saw off a few usable pieces. Ignoring the persistent throbbing of her body, she crouched and tied him up.

  Carrick rolled over, spitting the bitter powder from his mouth. Whatever the hell it was, it packed a powerful punch. He pushed onto his elbows and looked at Quinn. At first he thought the other man was dead, but then Quinn groaned and rolled onto his back.

  “That was close,” Quinn said, struggling to sit. “Say, ‘Thank you, Quinn, for saving my life again.’”

  “What happened?” Carrick stretched his arms in front of him. His body felt heavy, his movements sluggish.

  “Airborne poison. Once I realized what he was doing, I cast a spell to clear the air, but I wasn’t quick enough and some of it got through.”

  “But you can’t use your magic down here. There are wards.” Carrick tried to stand but collapsed, landing in a heap on the floor.