by Dianna Love
All of that depended on Jaz surviving the Blood King.
Not much hope of that.
The truck slowed then stopped.
Jaz pushed up to a sitting position and mentally prepared for what would come next.
Percee had returned to sitting with her knees pulled to her chest and her hands draped over those knees. She had no scent. Birds and reptiles had no detectible scent. A bird form made no sense. As a winged shifter, she should be able to get out of the collar and chains.
One of the wolf shifters opened the rear door with a bright light at his back.
Peeking out to allow her eyes a chance to adjust with late afternoon light streaming in, but thunder rumbled in the distance. Jaz sized up her captors as they climbed into the truck bed.
The other two female shifters began rousing and groaning.
Jaz asked, “Where are we?”
The first kidnapper said, “Do I look like your fucking tour guide?”
No, he looked like a hairy troll from hell with a black beard that engulfed his brown face, thick dark eyebrows, and no neck. His bulging forearms, which stuck out from a tight gray T-shirt, didn’t appear natural even for a body builder. Crazy stared at her from two black pits.
His massive left hand opened and closed, opened and closed.
He probably couldn’t control the involuntary movement.
She’d seen a similarly distorted body and odd muscle movements from a male fox shifter who had taken Jugo Loco to beef up.
Take enough of that garbage as a shifter and you could give the Hulk a challenge. She and Tarski might not survive fighting someone like this guy. His wolf had to be monstrous.
“Let’s get the one on the right first, Max,” the other shifter standing in back grumbled.
“I don’t care who goes first, Buster.”
Max’s sidekick had a few inches of height, black hair skinned back, and another seventy pounds on Jaz in human form, but she could take him in a fair fight.
Max opened the door in the wall of bars across from Jaz, reached down and got a fistful of the chain between Percee’s neck and wrists. He dragged her up.
The woman did her best to help, but he still choked her before she reached her feet.
Bastard.
Percee stood. She had to be at least five-eleven and had the slender build of a ballerina, but she was no lightweight. In that moment when he hurt her, Percee’s power pulsed out, the blowby slapping Jaz.
Max yanked her to his face. “I felt that, bitch. Try it again and I’ll break both of your arms just to give you something to do if you’re feeling jumpy.”
Percee never blinked during the stare down.
When he turned to drag her out, Percee flicked a finger in Jaz’s direction.
The energy pulse from a moment ago was nothing compared to what hit Jaz in her chest. Then Percee’s voice came into her head again. You will need that later.
Jaz telepathically shouted back, Who. Are. You?
As Percee reached the exit point at the doors, she lifted her head in a regal move and silently replied, Just like you, I am a child of Vercane.
What the hell?
Jaz hurried to figure out what Percee had hit her with and if that boost would affect her own energy. If it got her back on her feet, good. But if she lit up and started shooting sparks like a human fireworks, not so good.
Pushing her energy down before Max came for her, she struggled to her knees and pushed up to gain some slack before he grabbed her chain. She shuffled along until she had to jump three feet down, landing on both feet with her knees bent.
More wolf shifters arrived to extract the other two groggy females who could barely hold their heads up.
Once that group trudged off, Max turned to Buster. “You take the lead.” Then he told Percee, “You next.” She fell into place, eyes forward and head held high. Max grabbed Jaz’s arm. “Follow the tall bitch. I’ll be right behind in case either of you try anything.”
Jangling her chain and cuffs, Jaz muttered, “I’m not freaking Houdini.”
“I’m not risking that you might be,” Max countered.
Old oaks towering overhead in a picturesque setting, perfect for an outdoor wedding.
What a strange moment to walk through a tree-lined natural archway of moss dripping from limbs still covered in leaves. A lovely white Antebellum house with graceful columns along both levels. The rich smell of fresh-cut grass mingled with the scent of wolf-shifters.
Picturesque if she were visiting and not on the way to her death.
Or worse.
There was always something worse than death.
Grimacing when she stepped on a small rock with her bare feet. She’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way from being captured at her apartment. Her procession continued over flat fieldstone bordered by tiered levels of landscaping.
Eight steps up, chains jingled until her feet shuffled over the smooth wood porch. An attractive swing at the far left end of the porch with cushions covered in a yellow sun-flower print waited for two happy people and iced tea being served.
Her brain tried to make sense of entering the Blood King’s home inside this quiet setting. Every part of it in exceptional condition.
How had he managed to keep his presence here secret for so long?
After crossing the porch, two wolf shifters held double doors open.
Where the outside had been simple and old fashioned in classic design, the interior stood in contrast with dark black and silver marble floors, garish dark furnishings with gold highlights on everything from the wrought iron stair handrails to squatty lamps of shiny red bases. Strange paintings of people wearing bones and skins dancing around fires lined one wall along with a huge mirror. All of that had been framed with thick wood carved in what made her think of Spanish designs.
Guess the blood business paid well.
Surprising that no one had ordered her to wash her feet before entering. The Blood King probably had someone on standby to clean up.
They continued through two nine-foot-tall, lead-and-glass doors carved with an abstract wolf design.
A fragrant scent of bread baking off to her left reached her. Kitchen must be that way. After passing through the wide foyer, she entered an even gaudier room of heavy tables and chairs, all of it red, gold, and black everywhere she looked. A large tapestry of a bull fight hung from one wall.
When she stopped, her feet sunk into the thick black Alpaca rug between her and a huge throne.
A throne. One suited for a king.
This alpha took his title of Blood King to heart, huh? Maybe perpetuating a myth aided him remaining uncatchable.
Two wolf shifters dressed in black suits with black T-shirts stopped her procession midway into the room. One pointed to the left when he spoke to Max and Buster. “You two stand over there. We’ll take it from here.”
Max and Buster oozed fear and suspicion, but did as told.
They should.
If the Blood King didn’t like their offerings, those two might just share her fate. She had no idea what the Blood King would do to her, but she would not fool herself into thinking she could escape this with her life.
Not if those jackals who came for Thea had been sent to deliver Thea to the Blood King. What happened to her?
Jaz hoped she did not find the women here. She hoped Thea had woken up with a night terror from her attack and took off.
The guard moved them forward until Jaz stood fifteen feet from the throne with Percee on her left.
With everyone positioned, guards moved to each side with more lining up behind her. They all faced the throne.
A man emerged from an opening in the tall carmine-red drapes used as a backdrop for the power seat.
When shifters had captured her the last time as she’d searched for Scarlett, one of them had whispered about the Blood King. The other shifters kicked him around and ordered him to never speak that name.
They had not wanted to die by
association with him.
She’d heard the Blood King portrayed as scary, which she immediately ruled an inaccurate description.
They should have used words like majestic, imposing, and terrifying.
This wolf leader stood six-foot-three in his human form, had the imposing build of a man who carved his body according to a ruthless plan, and a face the old masters would have begged to immortalize in stone.
Thick black hair styled long on top with shaved sides. Smooth cheeks with no facial hair. He could be thirty or forty and should look too pretty, almost feminine, to rule monsters, but cold blue eyes cured anyone of that misinterpretation.
Smiling at everyone as he stepped up to his throne of black cushions, not red, and a thick gilded frame, he dropped onto the plush seat.
Both guards proceeded to shove Jaz and Percee to their knees. More like they tried and failed.
“I kneel to no one,” Percee snarled.
She bent, but she did not break.
“Enough!” their leader ordered.
The rough hands moved immediately, leaving Jaz to stand unimpeded.
Speaking in a smooth voice tinted with a beautiful Latin accent, the Blood King said, “I am Rey de Sangre.”
Percee said nothing, her face composed in an expression of not impressed.
Jaz replied in a dry tone, “So you’re the Blood King.”
“I see my reputation precedes me.” His lips turned up in a welcoming smile, then he blinked and stared hard. He seemed genuinely surprised by something.
The shift in his expression reminded her of a war lord after a successful battle finding a trophy he had not expected.
Or a shark smiling that way right before it chomped her head off.
Rey de Sangre draped his arms along the tall sides of his throne, with fingers relaxed. Easy to be comfortable with an army present and no real threat.
“I finally get to speak with the wolf that has eluded me for over a year,” he said specifically to Jaz, ignoring Percee.
Over a year?
She’d only killed Kaiser a few weeks ago. Why would he have been looking for her before that moment? If Kaiser had been delivering women to the Blood King, as Jaz suspected, had he mentioned her to his king?
Even so, this man should still not have known about her a year ago.
She kept her lips sealed. Best to remain quiet than implicate her any further in something she had no idea about.
His perfect eyebrows lifted slightly. “Your clan made a mistake by turning down my offer for the past three years. Had they given me what I requested, which was a great sum, they would not now have the embarrassment of a half-breed murderer connected to their clan.”
Her lips parted.
This man had known of her when she lived with the Kodiak clan? He’d tried to buy her?
Her bear clan alpha had told her to stop causing so much trouble when she acted out in her teens, because word of the Golden Kodiak wolf had traveled far. He never mentioned anyone offering money for her.
All her fault. During her dark years, as she thought of her teens, she’d roamed that territory and fought any shifter who wanted to fight.
Ironically, the healer who saw Jaz’s potential to help others, had been instrumental in Jaz coming to Reinhold’s pack to find Kaiser. That healer talked Jaz through the real reason for her anger. She blamed her mother for loving Kaiser over Jaz, for the guilt of Jaz causing her mother to leave Kaiser to save Jaz, then abandoning Jaz to live with others.
Fighting battles made her feel strong and in control, when in truth she was just angry and striking out.
Once Jaz matured to an adult and got her head straightened out, she’d wanted to make her clan proud.
Instead, she let her mother down and hurt her clan.
When Rey’s smile changed into a sly smirk, she closed her gaping mouth.
He angled his head, face boasting a pleased-with-himself look. “I see you are surprised I know of you. The truth is, I know very much about you and have waited for this day. When Reinhold found your mother, I provided a place for him to see her.”
Jaz’s head pounded at every reminder of her mother’s humiliation at the hands of these shifters. Jaz had never understood why her mother never railed against her abusers, only the loss of Kaiser.
Her words pounded Jaz’s brain. I should have stayed. I loved him. You would love him, too.
Her heart cried even when she refused to let a tear fall.
To hide her reaction, Jaz glared her hate for this man.
“Is true,” he continued. “I brought her here after her mate died.”
Enough was enough. Jaz accused, “You mean after her mate had been murdered.”
The Blood King lifted his shoulders. “Call it whatever you wish. I did not kill him. She had been having an affair with Reinhold for months. Your mother wanted to be free as much as Reinhold wanted her for himself.”
Jaz’s brain tried to make sense of his words.
Her mother had betrayed the mate she’d chosen?
That couldn’t be true. But ... she heard nothing but truth in his words. Could he lie the way she could to other shifters?
She felt no power push from him. Nothing that would indicate he’d manipulated his scent.
The healer had told Jaz she would know truth when she felt it in her heart.
Her heart had a lot to say right now. Like what did the Blood King have to gain by lying to Jaz? He had her standing here at his mercy.
His words explained things Jaz had never been able to understand. She’d accepted what she felt compelled to accept.
Had her mother caused all of this? Something broke inside Jaz, because she’d always questioned why she had not been enough. She’d wondered why her mother had never moaned about the loss of her mate. Why her mother never spoke a word of hate against the shifters who had held her captive.
She was the reason Jaz had been born a wolf shifter.
Not because her mother had been a victim, but because she’d been unfaithful.
Chapter 21
Jaz suffered dizziness at the mental bomb the Blood King had just dropped on her.
Her mother had constantly rambled about losing her true mate and child. In an argument she’d had with her mother before the woman left the day of Jaz’s eighth birthday, Jaz had asked, “Why can’t you love me?”
“I gave up everything, because of you,” her mother answered. “I left my child.” Then her mother walked away, shaking her head and muttering, “I should have stayed. I loved him.” She’d paused and turned to Jaz. “You would have, too. I lost everything.”
But her mother hadn’t been talking about Kaiser.
She’d meant Reinhold.
All these years that Jaz had not allowed her mother’s words to color her opinion of her half-brother.
She’d blamed herself for her mother’s painful loss and suffered for killing Kaiser.
No more.
“Are you listening?” Rey’s voice boomed with a sharp edge of warning.
She hadn’t been, but admitting might end with losing her head. She called up enough energy to help her convince every one of her next words. “I did drift off. I was shot with multiple tranq darts. The drug is still in my system.”
The Blood King frowned at Max and Buster, clearly accepting her words and blaming them for her lack of attention. With a flick of his hand, guards grabbed Max and Buster, taking them out. Max shouted, “We did nothing wrong. You owe us money.” Buster sniveled and moaned.
She had a hard time dredging up any sympathy for those two.
But she enjoyed a bit of relief at confirmation she could still push a lie past these shifters. That also meant Rey would have called her out on lying if he knew about her ability to do so and would have bragged if he could do it.
Her momentary relief lasted until she felt eyes on her and glanced to her left.
Percee gave her a so-not-buying-that glance.
How was it that woman co
uld know when Jaz lied?
Taking her irritation out on the Blood King, Jaz sarcastically tossed back, “You make it sound like you were my mother’s guardian.”
“One could call me that,” he agreed as if they discussed him being a saint. “I did your mother and Reinhold a favor by keeping her here where she would be safe.”
Why should she tiptoe around this maniac? Jaz had a lot to say to her mother, if the woman hadn’t gone entirely batshit crazy by the time she saw her again, but she would not give this wolf shifter an inch.
Straightening her shoulders, Jaz shot him a look of pure venom. “I wasn’t here to judge my mother’s actions, but you and Reinhold? I can see exactly what you two were doing. You treat all women as if they’re nothing more than something to use and throw away or sell. Stop acting like either of you were saints.”
The blood king shook his head and lifted a finger. “Reinhold loved your mother. He never loved his mate. That mating had been to create an alliance with another pack far from here. Reinhold did not understand your mother running away when she did. He had plans for her when the time came.”
As appalling as his words were, Jaz began to notice something familiar about his mannerisms and his eyes. She had no close association with anyone Latin, but he reminded her of someone.
She shook it off to figure out later when she was not trying to save her own life. Challenging words she couldn’t allow to stand, Jaz said, “You’re right, she did run. Evidently she didn’t feel nurtured here, as you claim, or loved by a man who was not her mate.”
The blood king laughed out loud. “You know so little about all of this. Your mother must not have explained it well.”
He had her there.
Getting something of value from talking with a squirrel would have been easier than dealing with her mother.
Jaz snorted in derision.
Humor fled the Blood King’s face, chased away by a dark thought hovering in those cold eyes. “I treated her well and she betrayed both of us after having Kaiser. I would have provided for her for all her days had she not run when she became pregnant with you.”
