Jagger

by Kimber White

  Hope sparked in Molly’s eyes. But, I knew there was no cause for it. Not the way she thought. I kept my eyes locked with Suzanne Olivet, shifter doctor.

  Suzanne’s lip quivered and she dropped my gaze. She looked at Rowan, moved forward and adjusted the sheet covering her.

  “Leave us alone for a minute Molly,” I said, my tone dark enough that she knew I wouldn’t ask again.

  When the door closed behind her, I moved closer to Rowan. I reached across the bed and took Suzanne Olivet’s wrist. Her eyes widened in shock.

  “Do whatever you have to,” I said. “Do we understand each other?”

  She pulled away. “Mr. Wilkes, I do not…”

  “Oh, yes, you do,” I said. “You know exactly what I’m asking you. White magic. Black magic. I don’t give a shit. You have what’s left of the Kentucky Pack, all of Wild Lake and the shifter communities beyond. Find an answer.”

  She let out a hard breath. Her eyelids grew heavy and she leaned back against the wall. “What if it is an answer you do not want to hear?”

  “Find a way to help Rowan,” I said. “Whatever it takes.”

  She rose slowly. Tiny beads of perspiration formed at her temple. Suzanne Olivet was scared. Tripping over her feet, she found her way out the door.

  I dropped my head on the bed and brought myself closer to Rowan.

  “Don’t you dare die on me, baby,” I whispered. But even then, I felt her slipping away.

  Twenty-Nine

  Jagger

  Hours melted into days, then weeks. I could not leave her. When Keara died, the people who love me locked me in dragonsteel chains so I wouldn’t hurt myself of them. Now, I stayed locked by Rowan’s side.

  Her skin grew colder. The bones in her face became more prominent, her cheeks hollowed out. Suzanne pumped fluid and nutrients into her veins, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  I went into the darkness to find her. Pressing my forehead against hers, and my hand over her heart, I embraced the quiet, looking for my love.

  “Rowan,” I whispered. “I know you can hear me, baby. Come back to me. Don’t you dare give up on me.”

  My voice was choked, ragged. I hadn’t moved from the stool beside her bed in days. I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, hadn’t shifted.

  Suzanne stopped asking me to take care of myself. Molly didn’t. She stood behind me, a light hand on my shoulder.

  “Jagger, I brought you some food. Steak and potatoes. A glass of milk. Will you please eat it? I’m not asking you to leave Rowan. I’m just asking you to have dinner.”

  Dinner. Was it morning? Night. I didn’t know anymore. When I didn’t answer, Molly set the plate on a table behind me. She came around to the other side of Rowan’s bed and checked her vitals. She opened Rowan’s eyes one at a time and shined a penlight in them. Her eyes were silver still, frozen that way ever since the Battle of Heartland. That’s what everyone had started to call it. I heard their hushed whispers in the corridors of the hospital.

  “You should go home,” I said to her.

  Molly smiled. “Home? That’s a moving target these days. You know there are still a few people who are afraid to leave the caves. Some of the more damaged betas and their families. Those who suffered the worst under Able.”

  Molly’s voice dropped off. Those who had suffered the worst. Rowan was at the top of that list. A growl vibrated through me as it always did when I let my mind settle on Able Valent.

  There was a commotion out in the hallway. Molly stiffened and rose from her stool. My gaze didn’t leave Rowan. At any moment, she could give me some little sign. A flutter of her eyelids. A sound. Anything. She hadn’t yet. Not since the moment she collapsed in my arms. But, she was in there, dammit. Suzanne told me she’d expected her to die the first night. And yet, my strong, beautiful love was still fighting. Still holding on.

  “I’ll be back,” Molly said, drawn by whatever was happening out in the hall.

  “You don’t have to,” I told her, smoothing a hair away from Rowan’s brow.

  Molly let out a sigh but didn’t argue with me. I had harsher words to say to her. She belonged with Liam and his new pack. I didn’t need any more sad, hopeless expressions from her or Suzanne Olivet. For her part, Suzanne was almost afraid to come in the room.

  Another crash came from behind as metal hit the cold hard floor. Finally, I turned. Two young shifters, probably no more than fourteen or fifteen years old, stood in hospital gowns. One of them had IV lines dangling from his arm.

  “Just go on back to your rooms,” Molly said.

  “I’m not letting him touch me!” the one with the IV’s shouted. He was tall, gawky with black, unruly hair. He stood in front of his smaller companion, a boy with blond hair and a cruel scar running across his neck. These must have been two of Able’s newest recruits. They were the lucky ones. They’d probably only served the Pack for a few weeks at best before the Battle of Heartland. It meant they might escape with fewer mental scars than some of the rest.

  Molly got between them and another man in a surgical scrubs. I’d never seen him before. He was older, probably mid-fifties with salt and pepper hair and beefy arms. He was a wolf shifter too, but his scent was off. It roused my inner wolf. Molly shouldn’t be standing between those kids and him. The black-haired boy had murderous revenge in his heart.

  “Dr. Martin was just going to take your vitals,” Molly said.

  “He’s not touching me!” the kid said. “He’s one of them.”

  One of them. One of them. Just then, three of Liam’s new pack members charged down the hall. Of course Liam had sensed the threat to Molly just like I had.

  One of them.

  My heart thundered inside me. I made no conscious decision. What happened next was fueled by pure adrenaline and pent-up rage. I moved so fast I’m not sure my feet touched the ground.

  Suzanne had been right to keep this asshole away from me. My fingers closed around Dr. Martin’s throat and I pushed him against the wall.

  Shouts and screams came from all around. Molly was the first to try and stop me. Liam got there, followed closely by all ten members of his new pack.

  “One of them,” I hissed in Dr. Martin’s face. His wolf flared hot; his eyes burned bright gold. He’d be no match for me if he put up a fight. I loosened my grip on his throat just enough so he could beg me to let him go.

  “You’re one of Able’s doctors,” I said. “Tell me what you know.”

  “I don’t know anything,” he coughed his answer.

  “Kid,” I shouted over my shoulder. “Get over here.”

  “Trent, it’s okay,” Molly said, keeping her voice even.

  Trent, the black-haired kid, got closer to me but kept out of my immediate reach.

  “What did you mean, he’s one of them?”

  “Just what you said,” Trent answered. “He was one of Valent’s guys. He ratted my brother out when he tried to go into hiding. They killed him. They killed my brother.”

  “Jagger, let him go…” Molly’s voice faded into white noise. “He’s already been questioned.”

  “Not by me!”

  My pulse slowed and my wolf raged. Valent’s doctor. When I closed my eyes, I could see the thousands of useless shots filled with false hope they’d made Rowan take. I saw the emaciated bodies of beta wolves, bred to weakness. I saw all of the women he’d abducted and taken to places like Birch Haven so he could gift them into forced matings to keep the Alpha wolves he had left in line. Then, there were all the innocent children who had died as a result of Valent’s failed genetic experiments. We stood only twenty feet away from the Rowan, who had suffered the most from it.

  “Doctor,” I hissed. It didn’t matter whether this man had a direct hand in Valent’s worst sins. He knew something. He had to know something.

  “Tell me what you know about Rowan!”

  Martin’s eyes widened as he realized what this was truly about. “Nothing,” he gasped. “I wasn’t...I didn’t�
� I was just following orders. I swear it.”

  Orders.

  His wolf struggled to get out even though he knew I would kill him the instant he tried. There were other voices behind me. Liam. Molly. Some of the other wolves.

  I slammed Martin hard against the wall. “I’ll break your damn neck.”

  “Jagger, we need him!” Molly cried. “He is helping us. There are so many injured shifters. Broken men on the inside and out.”

  “Tell me what you know!” Martin and I locked eyes. He saw the fury in mine. I saw the resolve in his. Whatever knowledge was locked inside him, he wouldn’t let it out willingly. He may try to buy his freedom with good deeds now, but I would have what was inside his brain one way or the other.

  I dropped him to the floor and towered over him.

  Submit! The command thundered through me. Martin scrambled backward, putting his hand up to shield his face. It wouldn’t work. What I did now, could not be stopped that way.

  “Jagger, don’t,” Liam said. He put a hand on my arm. I whipped toward him, fangs bared. Liam let go of me.

  “Not this way,” Molly pleaded.

  I kept my eyes on Martin. “There is no other way. There’s no more time. I’ll take what I need from this asshole for Rowan.”

  “She’s the reason you can’t!” Molly was sobbing. “Oh, Jagger. Don’t. This isn’t you. You’re not like him. Do not force this man to submit to you. I can’t bring you back if you do.”

  I turned to her. Molly. Sweet Molly. Keara loved her. I loved her. Rowan loved her. I didn’t want to be the cause of her tears. But, I would not stand by and let Rowan die if there was even a sliver of a chance Martin might know something that could help her. And I would take it any way I could.

  Running footsteps clacked down the hall. Suzanne Olivet’s white lab coat flew behind her. She held a syringe in her hand. She stopped short.

  “You come near me with that thing and I’ll break your arm,” I said to her, surprised I could get the words out.

  The beast has risen inside of me. I knew this path. Once I started down it, there may be no way to come back. But, it would all be worth it. I had to try.

  I grabbed Martin by the head, pressing my thumbs to his forehead. I pulled him until we were nose to nose.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  He trembled and wet himself. For Rowan. This was all for Rowan. I squeezed my eyes shut and took one last deep breath.

  Submit!

  “I can’t bring you back,” Molly cried. “Jagger. We almost lost you when you did this with Sampson. Only Rowan could reach you!”

  I turned to her one last time. She saw the answer in my face. There was no other way.

  Martin’s legs twitched as he fought against my pull. I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, waiting for his to fill it. There was an answer. I knew it. I would have it, even if it cost me my soul.

  “Stop! I’ll tell you! Please God, I’ll tell you!”

  My eyes snapped open and I dropped Martin. He fell in a heap, sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Suzanne was bold. She pushed past me and started checking Martin’s vitals. I loomed over them both. Martin kept his hand up, shielding himself from my gaze.

  “It’s impossible,” he whispered. “They’ll likely kill you just for asking. You probably won’t even get close enough to try.”

  Slowly, I squatted down in front of him. Suzanne Olivet dropped back, her face white with shock. She still had the syringe in her hand. Trembling with fury, she pointed it at Martin’s jugular.

  “You bastard,” she whispered. “You lied to me. Tell me what you know about Rowan’s condition or Jagger will be the least of your problems.”

  “Get them all out of here,” I said to Liam. Instinct told me the fewer people who heard Martin’s story, the better. Under protest, he dragged Molly away, leaving the hallway clear but for me, Suzanne and Martin.

  “There’s only one thing that can cure that,” Martin said. “It’s the only thing that can do anything for a shifter that’s too far gone.” His voice broke off into hysterical laughter.

  Suzanne sat back on her heels. She ran a hand through her hair. Her face was still white. “No,” she said. “No fairytales.”

  “Lady,” Martin said. “You believe what you want. Dragon’s blood’s the only thing that could save your girl.”

  Dragon’s blood. He was stark raving mad. I curled my fist, ready to rip his throat out again.

  “There’s no such thing, you asshole. I’ll kill you.”

  He was still laughing. I’d gone too far. I thought I’d broken off in time. But, Dr. Martin’s mind was mush. He kept raving out dragon’s blood.

  “They’re extinct,” I whispered. “You son of a bitch.”

  Something about Suzanne’s expression stopped me cold. Her eyelids fluttered as she closed her eyes and leaned hard against the wall.

  She murmured a stream of words in French. I didn’t have to speak it to intuit her meaning. I gripped her arm hard and her eyes snapped open.

  “You know where, don’t you?” I said.

  She jerked away from me and got to her feet. I knew enough gutter French to get her general meaning as she let loose on Martin. Then, she turned to me and straightened her coat.

  “If what he says is true,” she finally said in English. “I know a guy. But even if he agrees to help us, you probably won’t live to see it.”

  Thirty

  Jagger

  “What the actual fuck is this place?”

  It had been seven days since Dr. Martin broke. Three days since Suzanne swore on her life she’d bring me to the one person who may or may not be able to help Rowan. I had put not only Rowan’s life in her hands, but my own. With each beating of my heart, I knew they were one and the same. She warned me I might not survive this trip. If it cost my life to save Rowan’s it would be worth the price. If this didn’t work, my life would be nothing to me anyway.

  There had been one condition. I wasn’t allowed to even know where the hell we were. She’d chained me in dragonsteel, a feeling I knew well. I traveled in darkness, with a black velvet hood over my head. We’d driven for days; much of it, I knew had been in a circle, though I didn’t let on. Now, the ground swayed beneath my feet. Seagulls cawed overhead. Suzanne reached up and ripped the hood off my head.

  The light might have temporarily blinded me, but a thick fog had settled in. The gray, hazy mist made it hard to tell whether it was dawn or dusk.

  I took in my surroundings. I stood on the deck of a small fishing boat. The waves rose high on either side of us and I couldn’t see land in any direction. The birds arced overhead.

  Though it looked enough like it, this was no ocean. This was fresh water. If I had to guess, we were on one of the bigger of the Great Lakes. Given a chance, there were probably enough clues for me to guess which one, but instinct told me not to try. This was a leap of faith.

  “Let me do the talking,” Suzanne said. She stood beside me in casual clothes, jeans, a sweater and a pair of rain boots. She gathered her arms around her. The chill didn’t bother me. My blood heated with anticipation. There was something in the air. Something mystical. My spine tingled. If it weren’t for the chains, I’d be in my wolf by now. As it was, I had to bite my tongue to keep from growling. Suzanne shot me a stern warning look.

  The cabin door opened and the oldest man I’d ever seen shuffled out. There were two other figures on the bridge. I could only see their shadowy silhouettes. One was likely the captain.

  The old man walked with a hunched-over gait, supporting his weight on a shiny black cane. He had silver hair that blew around his face as he approached.

  “This is your guy?” I asked Suzanne.

  She gave me a harsh shush and walked toward him.

  “He’s a big ‘un,” the old man said, looking me up and down. Mostly up. He couldn’t be more than five feet tall. He was a wizened, weathered old man. One of his eyes was covered in the opaque clo
ud of a cataract. The other was crystal clear and green as he stared straight through me.

  “Thank you for seeing us,” Suzanne said. “We have come a long way.”

  The old man kept walking. He raised his cane and poked me in the chest with it. I swallowed another growl and stood as straight as I could with the chains crisscrossed over my body.

  “He looks healthy enough,” the old man said.

  “This is Jagger Wilkes,” Suzanne said. “And he is not the one in need.”

  He scowled and cocked his head to the side. “Then you are losing your gift, my friend,” he said. “His need is pouring off of him.”

  “Her name is Rowan,” I said, surprised I could muster the composure to speak. My heart drummed in my chest. Life and death. Night and day. It was in me to want to get what I needed from this man by force.

  “Jagger Wilkes,” he said, giving me what must have passed for a smile. His face was creased like a raisin. “You can call me Astor. It’s not my name, mind you. But, it’s what you can call me.”

  “Astor,” I said. “Can you help us?”

  Astor scratched his chin. He was old enough that he had no facial hair anymore. Though I had no way to be sure, I guessed this man was nearing one hundred. Even through the dragonsteel, I could sense magic swirling around him. So, he was a witch of some kind. A mage. There is no love lost between shifters and witches. Why the hell hadn’t Suzanne warned me?

  “Because it wouldn’t have done you any good!” Astor said. I reared back, feeling his power spiraling around me like smoke. Oh, he was a mage, all right. And I was probably way off about his age, undershooting by a decade or two.

  “One hundred and twenty-three,” he said, giving me a gap-toothed smile.

  “Are you finished with your parlor tricks?” I said through gritted teeth. I strained against the chain. “You don’t need me to tell you why I’m here or what I want. A hero is dying. I’ve been told you have the means to help her if you choose. If you want me to beg, I’ll beg. If you want me to pay with my life, I’ll do that too.”