Dance with the Devil

by Angela Dennis

  She stared into his large golden eyes and tried to keep a rein on her temper. “One minute, then I’m coming in after you.”

  “We can’t let you—”

  “You can’t stop me.” She crossed her arms. “I’m stronger than the two of you combined.”

  “Strength doesn’t stop bullets,” William replied. “And it doesn’t stop Quinn from killing me because I didn’t follow orders.”

  She leaned against the wall and tapped her wrist. “Clock’s ticking.”

  She let her mind wander as they disappeared inside the room. Part of her hoped she found Reginald before Quinn. She’d spent most of her life terrified of the man, worried she’d somehow inherited his insanity. She hated him so much she’d been ready to turn her back on the Pride forever. Yet here she was, on the precipice of becoming Alpha. But she wouldn’t be a good Alpha until she faced the monsters that lurked in the recesses of her mind. Her father being one of them.

  A loud thud snapped her back to reality. She glanced down the hall at the guards outside Carrick’s room, but they hadn’t heard. “Something’s wrong,” she called. “I’m going inside.”

  They motioned for her to wait, but she couldn’t. Not if the other guards were in danger. She called to her beast, reveling in the power that danced beneath her skin as she entered the suite. She was ready. Even so, her heart was pounding so loudly it rang in her ears. The first guard lay in the hallway, his neck broken. As she walked around him, she mentally prepared herself for what lay ahead. Her father packed a punch. She couldn’t hold back if she wanted to win.

  William was in her old bedroom. By the look of things, he’d put up a good fight. Reginald had him on his knees, his arm wrapped around the other man’s neck.

  “Let him go.” Jillian moved into the room, blocking the door. “It’s me you want, not him.”

  Reginald ignored her and tightened his grip, close to ripping out William’s throat. Jillian lunged, again calling to her beast as she launched into the air. When she hit the ground, she was fully cat. She grabbed Reginald’s forearm with her mouth, her teeth sinking into his flesh. Reginald released William, and the guard fell to the floor. Jillian prayed he wasn’t dead.

  “I don’t want to kill you, Jillian.” With his free hand, Reginald grabbed her by the scruff and squeezed. Pain streamed down her back, but she growled and bit deeper. He punched her in the head. This time she had to let go. It was a struggle to remain conscious, but she managed to cross to the other side of the room to get away from him.

  “That’s better.” Reginald straightened, partially shifting his arm to stop the bleeding. “Now change and get dressed. We need to talk.” He waved a hand toward the doorway, erecting a magical barrier to trap them inside. She could hear the other guards coming down the hall, and she prayed he wouldn’t kill them. In her current condition, she couldn’t protect them.

  She moved to the closet, stepped inside and nosed the door closed. The change weakened her, but she wanted to talk to her father. A part of her needed to understand why he was doing all of this. Her head was still spinning as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top. She knew she had to pull it together or she might not come out of this alive, but twenty-nine years of fear and hate for the man on the other side of the wall was clouding her judgment.

  “What are you doing here?” She stepped out of the closet and leaned against the wall. “There’s no way you’re going to get away with this.”

  Reginald rubbed his arm. “I didn’t raise you to be stupid, so don’t act like it. This is my Pride. I built it from the ground up, and I’ll be damned if a Regulator is going to take it away from me.”

  “You attacked another Pride member in plain view of the humans. This is your fault. Take some responsibility.”

  He shrugged, leaning against the bedpost. “So, we kill them and move on. Which is what I did. Three humans don’t make a crisis.”

  For a moment, she could only stare at him. He’d lost his mind. You didn’t just kill humans because it was easy. It was always the last resort. “You really are insane,” she said. “You’ve run this Pride into the ground. It’s dying. All the infighting is eating away at our infrastructure. You’ve lost thirty Pride members since I left.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” His grin sent a chill down her spine. “The strong ones stayed. The ones I wanted.”

  “You mean the crazy ones?” She shook her head. “Do you honestly think the Pride’s going to follow you after this latest escapade? They know the Conclave banished you. You’re asking them to go rogue.”

  “It’s the same choice they’ll have to make if they follow you, unless you kick Carrick out of your bed. What makes you think they’ll choose you over me? I’m their Alpha. You’re just a scared little girl who can’t handle the responsibility of being a cat. Things get hard, and you run. You’re no leader.”

  The hell of it was, he was right. Until this point, she had acted like a child. Running away from the Pride because she didn’t trust them—didn’t trust herself. But it was more than that. She’d been so afraid they wouldn’t accept her that she hadn’t really tried. And what had she ever done to show them she was worth their respect? Absolutely nothing. Before she became their Alpha, she needed to earn their respect. Show them she wasn’t going to lead them straight into chaos, or worse. She needed to suck it up and start being a leader. And she needed to start now.

  “It’s not your Pride anymore.” She pushed off the wall and moved toward him. “It’s mine. You’re going to turn yourself in to Quinn, and we’re going to end this.”

  He snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

  The closer she got to him, the more afraid she became, but she didn’t stop. She was done playing the victim. “The way I see it, you either come willingly, or I make you. It’s your choice.”

  A low growl rumbled deep in his throat. “Remember who you’re speaking to, girl.”

  “Oh, I do, Dad.” She grabbed his arm and, before he could react, twisted it behind his back. “See, I was taught by the best. A man who was determined I would be the strongest, bravest beast in the woods. But there was a problem with his plan.” She tightened her grip and twisted harder. “No one holds my leash, not anymore.”

  He slammed his body backward, knocking her off-balance and sending her flying across the room. “That’s what you think,” he said, his beast peeking from behind his eyes. “Your power comes from your mother, not from me. Down here, all you have is your beast. And mine is stronger. I’d rather use you than kill you, so stop wasting my time.”

  With no breath left in her lungs to form the words, she flipped him off. The sound he made was anything but human, and, as she watched, he shifted into his beast. Reginald’s lion form was extraordinary. Covered in pale golden fur, with a solid black mane, he would have been beautiful if he hadn’t been so damn evil. As he stalked her, body close to the ground, tail twitching, the only thing she felt was sorrow. She hated that they had come to this, but they had. Either she accepted it and fought back, or he’d kill her.

  Her beast flowed through her, and when he lunged she met him halfway. They slammed to the floor in a tangle of teeth and claws. Pain ripped through her shoulder and she roared, sinking her teeth into the side of his neck. His blood flowed into her mouth, pulsing with the beat of his heart. He shook his head, tearing at her with his claws, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she bit deeper, ignoring the pain from her injuries. Eventually, she felt him weakening, his heartbeat slowing, his breath coming quicker as he struggled for air.

  “Let him go, Jillian.”

  The words barely penetrated. She’d retreated to a hidden place inside her mind. Unable to cope with the fact she was killing her own father, she’d let instinct take over.

  “Jillian, let go,” Quinn said again. Hands stroked her head and neck, urging her away from her prey. When that didn’t work, he slapped her across the rear. Hard.

  She released Reginald, whipping around to face Quinn. He held up b
oth hands, palms out. “Don’t kill me. You’ll thank me later.” He turned to William, who stood a little way behind him. “Go get Carrick.” William nodded and hobbled out of the room.

  Once he was gone, Quinn moved toward Reginald. Jillian stepped between them, growling deep in her throat. This was her kill.

  Fast as lightning, Quinn grabbed her by the muzzle. “Change. Now. Or I’ll make you.”

  She tried to shake him off, but he was too strong. Irritated, she showed her teeth.

  “You never do anything the easy way.” Quinn released her and shoved her backward.

  Her cat yowled as Quinn’s magic swept around her, calling to the human inside and pulling her to the surface. It hurt. It hurt so bad she almost couldn’t stand it. Both the human and the cat fought the intrusion, but Quinn was stronger. Her bones rippled and reformed, skin replacing fur, until she lay naked and exhausted at his feet.

  “What the hell happened?” Carrick stepped through the doorway. He glanced at Reginald’s broken body, then rushed to Jillian.

  “Get her out of here. She’s hurt.” Quinn turned to Reginald, running his hands across the cat’s bloody neck.

  Jillian lunged toward him, an inhuman sound ripping from her throat. “Mine,” she said, her voice deep, rough and almost unrecognizable. The cat was still in control, and she was pissed.

  Carrick grabbed a blanket from the bed. He tried to cover Jillian with it, but she fought him, kicking and biting, until he tossed it aside. When he went to grab her, she pushed him away and struggled to her feet. She’d regained control of the lioness, but there was a part of her that wanted to bring her back. It was so much easier to live by instinct and not worry about consequences.

  She snarled at Carrick when he tried to pick her up. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Moving past Quinn and Carrick, she stopped in the doorway and looked down at her father. At first, she thought he was dead. He was so still, lying in a pool of his own blood, his eyes wide and staring. Then she saw his chest move. She hadn’t killed him, but she’d come close.

  “Take care of this,” she said to Quinn. “I don’t want to see him again.”

  “You won’t,” Quinn replied. “Do you care what happens to him?”

  “No,” she said, perhaps a bit too quickly. She didn’t want to think about it. She wanted it to be over. “It’s your decision. But if he survives and comes back here, I will kill him. This is my Pride now. He’s not going to destroy it.”

  She walked out of the suite to find that a number of Pride members, including her guards, had gathered in the hall. They’d heard the commotion and come from their suites. Jillian didn’t have the patience or the inclination to deal with them. She was injured, naked and still ready to kill somebody.

  But the days when she could have walked away were over. She might not be Alpha yet, but she was the closest thing they had. Like it or not, they were stuck with each other. She needed to prove to them that they could trust her, that she was strong enough to lead. So she put her emotions on lockdown, threw back her shoulders and faced them head-on.

  “Is Reginald dead?”

  Jillian sorted through the crowd, trying to figure out who had spoken. It was Aiden, the only one of her father’s enforcers who hadn’t tried to kill her.

  “Is he?” Aiden asked again, moving closer.

  Jillian readied herself. She had no idea how they would react to the news. “He’s not dead, but he’s close to it. Quinn will decide what happens to him. He’s no longer our problem. I promise you will never see him again.”

  Aiden slumped, blowing out a long breath. After a few seconds, he straightened and began to walk toward her. Jillian fought the urge to attack. Her patience had worn thin. The adrenaline from the fight with her father hadn’t worn off yet and it had left her on edge. She managed to control herself. It was a good thing, because as she watched in shock, Aiden knelt before her and bowed his head.

  “Thank you, Alpha. You have my allegiance, if you’ll accept it. I know you hate me. You should. The way we treated you was unforgivable. It was what your father wanted, so we played along. He would have killed us if we hadn’t.”

  Before she could respond, the others followed suit, falling to the floor at her feet in submission. As she stood there, she realized her father hadn’t just been her own personal monster. He’d been theirs as well. And now that he was gone…they were free.

  She wanted to forgive them for the way they had treated her, but it wasn’t that easy. You didn’t just snap your fingers and erase years of abuse. At some point, she would be able to put it behind her, but it wasn’t going to be today. However, she was willing to start over.

  She crouched beside Aiden, leaning toward him so they were eye to eye. “I accept your oath. We were all his puppets, but that’s over now.” She stood and looked out over the gathering crowd. “I hope each of you stay, but once the Claiming ends, you’ll have the opportunity to leave. If you stay, each one of you will swear your allegiance. That oath will wipe away the past. This is your second chance. I don’t give thirds.”

  The crowd parted to let her through, and she let Carrick lead her to his suite. If she thought about what had happened, she’d break down in big, sloppy, wet tears for hours. She couldn’t do that in front of the guards or the other members of the Pride. As their leader, she had to be strong. It was her job to show them, not just tell them, that everything would be okay. That the monster who had ruled them was gone, and they were free.

  The second they stepped inside the suite, Jillian started to shake. Unsteady on her feet, she collapsed in the middle of the hallway. Carrick felt so damn helpless. He should never have let her go out on her own. This was his fault. And he had no idea how to make her feel better—she looked like she was going to shatter into a million pieces. He had just crouched beside her when Lucas stepped into the foyer.

  “Everything okay?” Lucas shut and locked the door behind him. “Quinn filled me in. I’ve been on the other side of the compound trying to keep order. Your announcement that the Prides were joining pissed a lot of people off.”

  “Did you get it under control?” Carrick asked. He really couldn’t care less. His focus right now was Jillian.

  “Not really. Quinn sent someone after me, so I stopped trying. They’ll come to terms with it. They have to.”

  “You did what you could.” Jillian grabbed at Carrick, using his body to hoist herself to her feet. “We’ll deal with them later. Right now, I need to get cleaned up. I’m pretty sure my ribs are broken.”

  This time, she didn’t protest when Carrick picked her up. Leaving Lucas in the hall, they made their way to Carrick’s bedroom. Wanting her to be comfortable, he placed her on the bed. She immediately tried to get up.

  “I’m nasty. I’ll get blood all over the sheets.”

  He held her in place, his hands on her arms. “Sheets can be replaced; you can’t. Now lie here and stay still so you don’t hurt yourself more. I’m going to get something to clean your wounds.” He hated to leave her alone, but he didn’t have a choice. She was too weak to shift, and he was too weak to force her. Left alone, her wounds would fester.

  When he returned, she was sitting on the bed, her legs dangling over the side. Her skin was blotchy, and she was steadily rocking back and forth. He pressed his hand against her forehead to check her temperature, worried she was in shock. But she had just withdrawn somewhere deep within herself. Not sure what else to do, he began systematically scrubbing each of her wounds, cleaning them and then applying antiseptic ointment. Shifters healed fast, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Once he finished, he walked to the bathroom to dump out the water. On his way back, he grabbed one of his clean T-shirts. He walked to the bed and handed it to her. She didn’t look at him, but she took it and slipped it over her head. Still she rocked, her eyes wide and staring. So he did the only thing he could. Settling on the bed behind her, he put his legs on either side of her and slipped his arms aro
und her waist, pulling her against him. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Let it go.”

  At first it seemed like she’d pull away, but then, whimpering, she turned in his arms. “I can’t do this,” she said. “I’m drowning in feelings. I don’t know how to handle them.”

  “Come here.” He moved so they were lying on the bed, Jillian curled against his chest. “Don’t try so hard. It’s okay to cry. You need to.”

  His heart broke as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. “I never cry,” she said. “At least, I didn’t before I met you.”

  He ran his fingers through her tangled curls, leaning down to press a kiss against her forehead. “You’re safe with me. Just let it out.”

  As she leaned her face against his hand, tears began to stream from her eyes. A few minutes later, she moaned, buried her face against his chest and began to wail. Carrick held her as she released years of pent-up emotion. He stroked her back, wishing there was something—anything—he could do to take away her pain. All he could do was hold her and hope it was enough.

  He’d lived his whole life running from the Pride, tired of hiding what he was, convinced no one would accept him if they knew the truth. Seeing Jillian’s struggle, watching her go through hell and come out the other side, made him ashamed of his fear. But it wasn’t just that. She’d made him realize it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. He was what he was. Either they liked it, or they didn’t. It was no skin off his back. There was no shame in being a half-blood. If his pure-blood Pride had an issue with it, it was their issue, not his.

  “You’re living in your head again,” Jillian said, jarring him from his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

  “You,” he replied. “How incredible you are. I never thought we’d end up here. But I’m glad we did.”

  She shifted to see him better. “Which part is your favorite? The fact that we had to go against the Conclave to be together, or the part where my father tried to kill us?”