Jennifer Lynn Barnes Anthology

by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

  Exhausted, but knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I leaned back in my bed. My breathing slowed, but my eyes didn’t close. I cleared my mind until Chase’s scent filled my nose.

  If my eyes hadn’t been open, I would have sworn he was there in the room with me, but he wasn’t. Even with five hundred miles between us, we were connected. It wasn’t all-consuming the way it had been in the minutes after I’d formed the connection, but it was there, and as I stared up at the ceiling, I became aware of the fact that somewhere, Chase was staring up at a starlit sky.

  I breathed in.

  He breathed in.

  As long as we were awake, there was no Rabid to haunt his mind, no memories to plague mine. There was just Chase and me and the uncannily comfortable silence of two people who felt as if they’d known each other for much longer than they actually had.

  I saw through his eyes. He saw through mine. And for the first time since we’d come here, I felt like I was home.

  Eventually, I did fall asleep, and in an ironic twist of fate, Chase wasn’t in my dreams and I wasn’t in his. In fact, my sleep was dreamless. Peaceful—until the sound of a heavy weight dropping onto my bedroom floor woke me up.

  Four-legger. Wolf.

  That was all it took for me to jump out of bed. I landed on my feet, and since I’d fallen asleep fully clothed, my knives were still sheathed to my calves. I had a silver blade in each hand before my eyes had even adjusted to the darkness. Moving on instinct, I put my back against the wall, scanning for the threat, and the moment I found it was the exact moment that the wolf in question slumped to the floor and melted into human form.

  Lake. Worn-out and naked. I couldn’t do anything for the former problem, but for both of our sakes, I shielded my eyes and rifled around in my suitcase until I found something that would fit her. The sweatpants were short on her and the tank top was too tight, but she didn’t complain.

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Have a nice run?” I asked her. I would have asked her if she was okay if I hadn’t known for a fact that the answer was no. There was no sense in making her say it.

  “I’m tired,” Lake said. “Mind if I crash here tonight?”

  I doubted she was too tired to make it the additional hundred yards to her house, but I wasn’t about to turn her away. Lake needed a friend, and she needed Pack. Right now, I was pretty much the only person in the world who qualified as both.

  “Mi casa es su casa,” I said. “Literally. I’m pretty sure your dad owns it.”

  Lake managed a grin. “That make me your landlord?”

  I snorted. “Not hardly.” I sheathed my knives and sat back down on the bed.

  “Scootch over,” Lake told me.

  I obeyed. Part of me wanted to wait for her to say something, but given the fact that she’d come right out and asked me about the Callum situation, I figured I owed her the same courtesy.

  “So. Alphas passing through on their way to Callum’s, and that peripheral thought you should know because they might decide you’re worth fighting for.”

  Lake blew out a breath of air with so much force that her lips actually made a popping sound. “If they tried anything, I’d kill ’em.”

  “Still sucks, though,” I commented.

  Lake snorted.

  “Don’t want to talk about it?” I asked.

  Lake shook her head. “Sorry about crashing here. Was feeling kind of lonesome. When we were little, I used to sneak into Griff’s room all the time. Drove him nuts.”

  The rare mention of Lake’s twin took me by surprise. Anyone with the power of inference could tell just by looking at her that she’d had a brother once, since by definition, female Weres were always half of a set of twins. Sora’s was a male in our pack named Zade. Katie’s was Alex. Lake’s was dead.

  Thinking back, I couldn’t remember the last time Lake had mentioned Griffin, but I knew better than to comment on that fact.

  “I don’t mind the company,” I said instead. “I get it. You run to be alone. And when you’re done …”

  You don’t want to be alone anymore.

  I didn’t say the words out loud, but I pushed them toward her, not knowing if she’d hear them, since I was Chase’s first and Stone River’s second.

  “You figure out anything else about the Rabid?” Lake asked.

  “Maybe,” I said. “There are some places that don’t technically belong to any of the alphas. He could be hiding out in one of those.”

  “You think the Senate knows where he is?” Lake asked.

  I didn’t answer. If they didn’t now, they would soon. There wasn’t a place in the country someone could hide from a dozen alphas once they had his scent.

  Burnt hair and men’s cologne.

  “We need to know what the Senate knows,” I said. “We need to hear what they say in that meeting.”

  Even in the dark, I could see Lake go sardonically wide-eyed. “Really? I never would have thought of that!”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Well, if you’re going to be that way, then I’m not going to tell you my plan for eavesdropping.”

  “No more sarcasm. Scout’s honor.”

  I snorted. The idea of Lake in the Girl Scouts was something else. She’d have earned all of their badges and single-handedly destroyed their reputation within a week.

  “Bryn,” she prodded, her voice coming closer to the high-pitched whine of a dog begging to be let inside.

  Being the generous soul that I was, I gave in and provided her with the key to all of this. The thing I’d discovered earlier tonight. “Chase.”

  The two of us didn’t have to be asleep to enter each other’s minds. We just had to be still. If he could get close enough to overhear the alphas talking, I could eavesdrop on them myself.

  Two days. One for the alphas to get to Ark Valley. One for the meeting. Two days, and I’d have answers. Glancing out the side of my eye at Lake and thinking about everything she had and hadn’t said tonight, I decided it wouldn’t kill either one of us to stay inside and hidden until then.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  AFTER TWENTY-FOUR HOURS INDOORS, LAKE WAS SO twitchy I thought she’d implode, or, more likely, explode, leaving a variety of casualties in her wake. Since I had no desire to be blown to Bryn bits, I was as relieved as she was when Mitch declared the coast clear. Unfortunately, unlike Lake, I couldn’t take a romp through the forest in celebration, and I couldn’t follow her to the restaurant and lend a hand waiting tables.

  I had bigger fish to fry.

  If the coast was clear at the Wayfarer, that meant the alphas had arrived in Ark Valley. And that meant it was time to put Operation Eavesdrop into play. Like the old pro I was, I faked the stomach flu and talked Ali into letting me stay in bed all day. The secret to success, as it turned out, was oatmeal—even I thought I was throwing up as I hurled three quarters of a bowl of cooked oats into the toilet.

  After a little bit of wheedling and looking pathetic, I managed to convince Ali that she didn’t need to worry and that all I needed was the solitude and quiet to sleep off the flu, so—with a trash can beside my bed and the evidence/oatmeal hidden away from prying eyes—I bought myself a ticket to slumber land. Or, more precisely, to Chase.

  I told myself that it would be simple, that I’d just slip into his mind the way I had on numerous other occasions. I’d done it without even meaning to when I was unconscious; we’d done it in our dreams. But even as I tried to convince myself that this was nothing, a traitorous part of my brain whispered that the second I came within a hundred yards of this meeting, Callum would know—not because of his knack or because he was alpha, but because staying away had been one of the conditions he’d laid down. Long before I’d had any reason to want to attend this meeting, Callum had forbidden me from going. He might as well have dared me to be there.

  He had to have known that.

  As I lay back, my eyes on the ceiling, I wondered if double jeopardy applied in Pack
Law. I’d already broken my permissions. What more could they do?

  “Deep breaths,” I muttered, willing my heart to quit bludgeoning my chest from the inside out. “You’re going to be fine.”

  What would they do to Chase if they caught us? What would they do to me?

  For a moment, I considered backing out, but like a neon sign, the image of a pigtailed little girl lit up in my mind. Madison.

  This wasn’t just about me anymore, and it wasn’t just about Chase and the way the Rabid stalked him through the night, refusing to let him forget even for a second who had the power and who’d been left gutted on the pavement.

  This stopped now. The attacks. The aftermath. The victims. It had to stop, and the alphas would take care of it. Once I heard it from their own mouths, maybe the ever-present roar in my gut—kill the Rabid, save them, fight, protect—might dissipate and die, and I could go back to being the girl who loved playing in other people’s trash and didn’t care much for dominance hierarchies and inter-pack relations.

  Maybe I could go back to being Bryn.

  “I’m calming down. I’m breathing. I’m ready.”

  My body rebelled against those orders, but I ignored it, closed my eyes, and let myself be pulled into thoughts of Chase.

  Dark hair. Blue eyes. Lopsided grin.

  Chase.

  He had a small, sinewy scar that pulled at one edge of his mouth. He appreciated rooms that locked from the inside and despised being caged. He moved like flowing lava. He thought he loved me, even though I could count on one hand the number of times we’d actually met.

  Chase.

  My body relaxed. My heartbeat slowed until I could only imagine the low, soothing whoosh of blood through my veins. Chase’s scent enveloped me, and as I breathed it in and out and felt his presence all around me, I lost myself to the pull of his psyche at the edges of mine. Like a sand castle at high tide, I broke, dissolved, and drifted slowly away.

  “They want to see you.”

  As my mind settled into Chase’s, and we became Chase-Wolf-Bryn, the senses we shared flared to life. Smell came first, the way it always did, and I recognized the person speaking to Chase because underneath the familiar scent of Stone River, he smelled angry. Not the fresh rush of adrenaline that came with fury, but the rotting irritation of bitterness as it decomposed.

  Marcus.

  If he’d found my adoption galling, the fact that the entire Senate wanted to see Chase, who hadn’t even been born a Were, must have chafed, too.

  Senate? Us? Now?

  On one level, I was aware that this was why I’d come here, but going to the meeting hadn’t been part of the plan. We were supposed to eavesdrop. We weren’t supposed to venture into Alpha Central ourselves. My thoughts blended into Chase’s, my questions into his.

  Why did the Senate want to see Us?

  Deeper in Chase’s mind, his wolf was anxious, antsy about going into a room filled with Others. Wolves who weren’t Pack. People he didn’t trust.

  We have to go, I thought, even though, like the wolf, I didn’t want to. Chase nodded to Marcus, not bothering to conceal his dislike of a man who’d always hated me. If I’d been in my own body, I might have made a comment specifically designed to press werewolf buttons, but instead, I let Chase’s thoughts guide mine. We were about to walk willingly into the wolf’s den. Literally. We couldn’t afford a divided front at a time like this.

  Chase pushed forward, and as we neared Callum’s house, his fists clenched. From the depths of his mind, I tried to prepare him for the rush of power that slammed into Our body the moment we crossed the threshold of Callum’s door. Each alpha in this room carried with him the weight of an entire pack, and it nearly brought Us low. These men played at being human, sitting around a table in Callum’s living room, but the air between them was so saturated with primal instincts that Chase almost couldn’t breathe.

  Jaws should have been snapping. Bodies should have been pinned to the ground. Heads should have been bowing, blood should have been spilled, and one man should have ruled them all.

  That was what the wolf inside of Chase said. That was the only conclusion supported by the pulsating, electric, lethal undertone in this room.

  “I take it this is the boy?”

  Chase took two steps back. Wolf wanted to come out. We had to get out of there.

  No, I said softly, finding my own voice in Chase’s thoughts. Keep your head angled at forty-five degrees to the ground, but stand up straight. Don’t back down, don’t challenge. Don’t even move.

  There wasn’t another wolf within a mile of Callum’s house at the moment. The power in this room would have been too much for them, and the Senate didn’t deal with packs. The alphas didn’t touch wolves that weren’t theirs. So why had they called for Chase?

  “Come in,” Callum said evenly. Chase could have resisted the order. He was mine more than he was Callum’s, but I echoed the sentiment. Step forward. Keep your head tilted downward, but don’t look at the ground. Look at Callum. Keep your mouth closed. Whatever you do, don’t show your teeth.

  The closer we got to Callum, the more we could feel the others, prowling just outside our thoughts. They didn’t push. They didn’t attack. But they were there.

  “He isn’t Rabid.”

  For a second, the voice sounded so like Devon’s that I wondered if he was pulling a ventriloquist act from somewhere in the depths of Callum’s house. And then I realized—

  Shay.

  “He hasn’t Shifted yet, which means he has more control than most young ones. Impressive, Callum.”

  There was something irreverent in Shay’s words, a tone that told me that Shay remembered being under Callum’s rule and wanted everyone else to forget it. In his own domain, Shay was king, but here, he was young, foolish, and couldn’t hold a candle to Callum’s years, his experience, or his power.

  Perfectly contained. Understated. Overwhelming. That was Callum.

  Bubbling, roaring, biting at the bit. That was Shay.

  “Chase.” Callum’s words brought our eyes to his, and inside of Chase, I almost flinched. If I’d been me instead of Us, I would have.

  I knew those eyes. I knew Callum. And he knew me.

  Bryn.

  I felt the call. I wanted to respond but didn’t. I wasn’t Callum’s anymore. He couldn’t tell me what to do. I wasn’t even sure if he knew I was there, or if he simply saw me every time he looked at Chase, thought about me almost as much as I thought about him.

  There was no room for questions like these in a room full of the most dominant wolves in North America. We had to stay in control.

  “Callum.” It was Chase’s voice and Chase’s response. I guided his body language, but I couldn’t guide his words. I couldn’t respond to the look in Callum’s eye or wonder what it meant.

  “The Senate would like you to describe the Rabid, his attack, and your recovery.” Callum didn’t phrase the words as an order. He kept his voice low and soothing, but I saw the way the other alphas’ eyes lit up at the question. They had a vested interest in finding out more about this Rabid, about what had happened to Chase.

  Sandstone and fish. Cedar and sour milk. Ocean salt and sulfur.

  Their scents flooded Chase’s senses, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

  Don’t let your lip curl up. Don’t growl. Don’t show your teeth, I told him.

  He didn’t, but inside him—inside Us—his wolf was awake and ready. It wanted to take control. I wouldn’t let it.

  Wolves, it argued back. Not Pack. Protect girl.

  If my presence here caused Chase to lose it, I would never forgive myself, so I channeled everything I had into keeping him calm. Soothing his wolf. Guarding his mind as his story spilled in monotone from his lips.

  The alphas asked questions—more detailed questions than I’d ever thought to ask. What was the length of the duration of the attack? How long had Chase lain on the pavement before Callum’s wolves had
found him and brought him back? Did he have any insight into how he’d managed to survive? How did he guard his mind from the Rabid? Did the Rabid ever take control of his physical body? Had it ever asked him to attack Callum? Could that happen?

  No, Chase explained. Callum had brought him into the pack and trained him to use his pack-bond to guard against the Rabid’s psychic advances. Chase refrained from mentioning that I’d manipulated that bond, that I was the one who chased away the Rabid’s presence in his dreams now.

  Finally, the questions stopped. One of the alphas, the one who smelled like sea salt, had the last word. “You’ve done well with him, Callum. You’re a strong boy, Chase, and you’ll been an even stronger man. Stone River is lucky to have you.”

  That didn’t sound like a compliment. It sounded like a complaint, but I didn’t have time to process that fact, because the next instant, Chase and I were dismissed.

  “You can go now,” Callum said. Chase wanted to argue. He wanted to stay. And for a moment, I wanted to let him, but the older, wiser part of me, the part that had learned about surviving in a werewolf pack from the very best, couldn’t let him.

  Go.

  I read the order on Callum’s face. I might have imagined that he knew, on some level, that I was there in Chase’s head, but I wasn’t imagining the compulsion behind his request that we leave.

  I wasn’t imagining the promise of violence if we didn’t.

  Go, I told Chase. Leave the house. Go as far away as you can and still hear.

  After all, Callum hadn’t specified where we had to go.

  As the door closed behind us, Chase’s body relaxed. He walked quickly, keeping one ear to the conversation in Callum’s house.

  It was silent.

  They wouldn’t talk as long as they could hear us. There wasn’t a single man in that house who had become an alpha by virtue of their stupidity. The alphas didn’t trust Us, and they weren’t taking any chances. I wanted to scream. Chase wanted to scream. His wolf wanted Out.